The Week of the Cat
by SpyVsTailor
Summary: It seems everyone wants something from Eddie...some more than others. Sequel to Twelve Days of Riddler.
1. Friday

_**Well, here it is, the sequel to Twelve Days of Riddler! It is shorter than the first part of my series, but...well...twelve, seven, you know? **_

_**Anyways, I wanted to give a shout out to all reviews the first story recieved after it was finished. That means I give deep respect and love to the following reviewers: TanithSeh1011 (bows reverently), Jen Rock (Yes, I have read Kingdom Come, if it hadn't of been for your recommendation I never would have [I tend to shy away from future storylines, they're so dreary]), Esmeralda Smith (And I couldn't have asked for a kinder review!). And a shout out to my faithful reviewers from the last story: thirteen_riot, ninjapoke, Robot521 and the much beloved Violeta27, I hope you all came back for round two!**_

_**To avoid confusion, I'll just point out that a majority of this story follows Eddie, unless otherwise indicated in the past flashbacks where it's from Selina's POV. If that seems a tad confusing, well...whatcha gonna do? Come all the way to where I live and bitch about it? You could, but then that'd be, that'd be, like, way crazy. I mean I don't come to where you work and perform open heart surgery. Because it's unsanitary to do that at a...you know what? I killed the joke. Let's just do this.**_

* * *

><p><strong>The Week of the Cat<strong>

**Friday, 1998**

**Catwoman**

She was perched on the top of Gotham Brewery, one of her favourite haunts, chomping on an apple, watching the rooftops of Gotham for anything interesting.

From down below someone whistled shrilly up at her, catching her attention.

She glanced down to find an arm sticking around the corner of the building, holding out a glass of milk, shaking it slightly in an effort to tempt her.

Curious, but also wary, she tossed the apple to the birds and made her way to the ground. Carefully she rounded the corner, only to find the arm and the milk disappearing around another corner behind a shed. She continued to follow it.

As she stepped into the alley behind the shed, she found a whole crate of milk cartons waiting for her, the glass on top, resting against the crate was a crudely made sign that said 'Free Milk'.

"How stupid do you think I am?" She asked whoever was playing with her.

"On any given day…?"

Eyeing the Riddler as he emerged from the shadows nearby, she pursed her lips. "What's with the milk, Ed?"

"Edward. And I just knocked over a dairy farm."

"Why?"

"My reasons are my own." He replied casually, encircling her. "I just thought I'd share the proceeds of that venture with someone who'd really appreciate them."

"What do you need?"

"How about we discuss business over a nice cold glass of milk?"

"I'd rather not drink or eat anything you give me, if that's alright." She replied.

"Where's the trust, my dear?"

She quirked a brow, but said nothing.

"A little bird told me you know a way to get past the security at the airport."

Selina scoffed. "You're the genius, Ed. Figure it out yourself."

"Edward. And I am a genius, my dear, but you're the one who's the expert at getting into places undetected."

"What's the death toll going to be?"

He shook his head once. "No death toll, just a mark."

"Bright green question mark?"

"Precisely, a proverbial 'X' to mark the spot."

Touching a hand to her chin, she pondered this. "For a job like this…I'll say twenty-five."

The Riddler pulled a slight face. "You realize that means I'll have to make a bank withdrawal."

"Better get on it." She replied.

He sighed heavily. "Not even for all the milk at the Hudson's Dairy Farm?"

"Not even for all the tuna at the cannery."

Pointing a finger at her and wagging it, Edward smiled. "You drive a hard bargain, Miss Kyle." With a roguish look, he touched a finger to his lips. "I didn't want to join the ranks of insanity by robbing the same bank twice, but…oh, who the hell am I kidding? This will make it a trifecta."

She had long tuned him out, heading towards the milk where she stood over the crate, hand on her hip, eyeing it.

"I swear it's not poisoned. I wouldn't kill off my favourite pussycat for a cheap laugh." He stated, sidling up beside her. Bending down he scooped up a jug and popped it open, taking a sip as proof it was safe, before handing it over to her.

Sniffing it, before taking a sip, she smirked. "I'll make you a deal, Eddie."

"Edward," he corrected.

"You rob the cannery and put a hell of a lot of fish in the alleys for my starving kitties and I'll do the job." She glanced at him. "Wouldn't want to force you into a three-peat."

"I'll tell you what I'll do, because I like you, Selina. I'll strap about twenty-five pounds of C-4 explosives to the cannery and blow it sky high, then the pieces can rain down on Gotham."

At her quirked brow, he beamed and thrust his arms out.

"It's more efficient!"

"You'll use any excuse you can to blow something up, won't you?" She inquired.

"You don't understand, Lina. Gotham will be covered in bits of tuna."

"And?"

"And that's that punchline."

"...to a joke only you get, apparently."

"No, to the riddle. What makes Gotham stink?"

Shaking her head, she sighed. "You are a sad, strange man, Eddie."

* * *

><p><strong>Friday, Now<strong>

"Cat's, cat's everywhere and not a stick in sight," he sighed, nudging a grey tabby away with his impeccably shined oxford. Loosening his tie with one hand, Edward Nygma tossed a pile of bills onto his workbench, startling away a fluffy white cat that had made a nest of his wires.

"Really, Eddie," Catwoman purred, rescuing her fluffy cat like a mother protecting her young. "You're too careless."

"Care less," he stated, studying his purple kid gloves. She had been coming around more often than not as of late, but he still tried to act casual about the experience. "Yes, that sounds about right." Looking up at her with a hard glare, he went on preening. "May I inquire as to why you're intruding upon the solitude of my cozy abode?"

"You may." She replied, nuzzling her kitty before releasing it to it's own devious devices. "I was investigating this and that when I came across your window and thought a nap would be in order. I figured you wouldn't mind."

Edward paused, a horrified look painting his face. "You…just decided to sleep in my bed?"

"Don't act disgusted, Ed." She purred, moving in close to him and inhaling slowly, before trailing her hands across his chest on her way past. "We've done far worse in it…"

Shaking his head as though shaking off the topic (which he would most definitely address later), Edward returned to the point of her visit. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasantry, my dear?"

She quirked a brow. "Can't I just drop by? Or am I not welcome?"

The Riddler scowled deeply, quirking a brow. "You need something."

"Yes, a nap. I got that."

Pushing his green bowler up high on his forehead, he sighed. "No, you're up to something fiendish."

"Oh, come on, Eddie." She sighed, rolling her eyes a little and stalking off towards his kitchen to idly go through his cupboards. "Doesn't every man dream of coming home to a pussy who'll curl up in his lap?"

"Stereotypically men are more inclined towards canines," he replied pocketing his hands and following her into the kitchen.

"That's because cats have been marketed improperly." She said casually, pulling out a tin of tuna. Turning around, she must have noticed his unimpressed look, because she sighed heavily and cocked her hip, a strong but slender hand resting on it. "Look, I'm having a bit of a bad fucking week, Ed, could you at least cut me a little slack?"

"You're having a bad week?" He inquired. "I ran into Killer Croc on a rampage three days ago and he tossed me into the bay. Do you know how many tests they have to run on me just to make sure I'm not breeding the newest form of plague? In addition it was cold and I bruised my ass on the ice before it cracked and I went under. Plus the embarrassment of having Batman save me in front of the Croc was not my finest hour."

"Your ass?" She asked, before laughing softly at him. "Sounds like you're doing far more than private dicking around." She said, a small smile curling the corners of her mouth.

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. "You said something about your problems?"

"I didn't say I came to share, Eddie." She teased. "I just came for a nap."

"I'm so glad you're well rested."

Glancing over her shoulder at him, Selina smiled. It pleased Edward that she didn't hide it from him anymore, like a small, but poignant victory had been claimed by him.

Pocketing his hands, he asked. "How's Maggie?"

Turning from her task, Catwoman eyed his close proximity for a moment before handing him a tuna sandwich. "She's good. She's living in Little Gotham now, has a job in the city. Why are you hovering, Ed?"

"I'm sorry, Selina. Sometimes I'm not quite sure how to act around you anymore."

"Why? Because we fucked?"

"No, because we keep on fornicating at random intervals."

She turned again with a heavy sigh. "Jesus, Eddie, you even talk about sex like a nerd." Eyeing him, she pulled a jar of mayo out of the fridge and set it on his counter. "So, you get nervous just because we don't have sex like clockwork? Your OCD is understandable, but utterly fucking insane."

He smirked. "You knew what I was when you decided to get involved with me."

Selina smeared mayo on a piece of bread, ignoring the fact that he was still hovering. "Unfortunately it couldn't prevent anything. I guess knowledge isn't really power."

Edward chuckled. "You know, Lina, it wouldn't hurt your pride to just admit you want to be near me."

Picking up the sandwich she made for herself, she bit into it and rolled her eyes.

Sniffing his offering tentatively before biting into it, he chewed for a moment, while she picked out a chunk of tuna and gave it to the nearest cat.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong, Eddie? I thought you'd like this movie."<p>

They were settled in his apartment later that night watching whatever was on TV, Selina, her feet in his lap, was stretched across the couch, Eddie at the other end, eyes on the screen.

"Why? Because it's poses a question in the title? It's hardly a Sam Spade mystery. I know what's eating Gilbert Grape, because he's poor, he lives in a Podunk town, his brother is mentally handicapped and his mother is pushing a ton. Case solved, send my payment in the mail." He stated, bare hands rubbing her feet idly. "And I can't be certain without a lengthy stakeout, but I'm sure his mortician friend is creeping on his sixteen year old sister."

Selina had stopped listening, her eyes on the bat signal in the clouds just outside the window.

Eddie followed her gaze.

"Oh God," she growled, eyeing the beacon. "Have we become boring old Gothamites who sit around watching the zombie box while outside the world around us lives and thrives?"

He studied her calmly. "Well…yes, but at least you're not wearing sweat pants yet."

"Shoot me when that day comes." She replied.

As they fell silent again as Gilbert was nearing the end of his tale, Selina wriggled her foot between Eddie's suspender and his chest, snapping it playfully. He knew she did it to annoy him. It was just one of the many tricks she had picked up when looking for a fight from him.

He gripped her foot in his cold hands and slid one up to touch the back of her knee, invading her warmth.

She gasped and kicked at him.

Capturing her feet, Eddie pushed them down and crawled over her, moving his cold hands to all her warmest places, chilling her.

"Jesus, Eddie, your hands are like ice!"

He smirked down at her, nose a hair's width from hers. "Yes," he drawled in his Mr. Freeze voice, "exactly like ice."

"Don't let Fries catch you mocking him, he'll turn you into an elfsicle." She teased.

"Call me an 'elf' once more, kitten, and I'll go back to calling you 'baby doll'." He purred, hands slipping under her shirt, heading for the warm area under her breasts.

"Don't," she warned him.

He quirked a brow, hands still on their warpath.

"Eddie," she warned, when his hands touched the most sensitive area under her tits, she gasped and pushed him off her onto the floor.

Eddie landed with a thud and a grunt. His already bruised ass taking most of the impact.

Sitting up, she shucked her shirt and pounced, landing hard on him.

Again he grunted at her attack, before smirking. "Ah…kitten's bored, is she?"

"Safety word's 'turkey'," she growled.

* * *

><p>Selina wore his pyjama top that night, leaving him in his question marked bottoms, lying awkwardly beside her in the bed. She filled his bedroom with such a sweet scent, one she never wore as Catwoman, but only when she came to him as Selina Kyle. It was such a feminine, soft perfume that it seemed to be her own natural bouquet.<p>

"Eddie? If I ask you something, will you promise me you won't over analyze it?" She asked, before rolling onto her side, facing away from him.

Staring at the ceiling for a moment, Edward contemplated this, his hands behind his head. "I suppose."

"Will you hold me?"

Rolling his head, he studied her form in the darkness for a long, silent moment, before slowly moving across the bed to draw her into his arms. It amazed him, how strong she was, but how vulnerable she really was underneath it all. It reminded him that she was one of the most genuine humans he had ever come across. The reason why he was drawn to her. She wasn't a hollow, dead-inside Gothamite, but a creature both strong and delicate. Capable, but still merciful. He tightened his arms around her ever so.

Pushing away a lock of dark hair from the side of her neck, he leaned in to inhale her scent. "What's wrong, Selina?"

"I thought you were tired, Ed."

Smiling, he pressed a kiss to the spot he was worshipping. "I am. However, you know how I get when a puzzle is presented to me."

"Puzzle?" She echoed.

"Yes. Just why is Selina Kyle so downtrodden tonight? You never come around to watch television or do anything much more with me than sex and bickering."

"I think you know." She stated, rolling over onto her back.

Pushing up, he hovered over her. "I do, but I was hoping you'd tell me."

Reaching out she touched a finger to the scar she gave him. "It's Crane." She said softly. "I've been in love with him for years…I just don't know how to tell him without upsetting Harley."

"What?" Edward sat straight up in the bed. He figured she'd deflect, but wasn't really expecting that to come out of her mouth.

Selina laughed, genuinely laughed at him from where she still lay on the bed. "Go to sleep, Ed."

Flopping back onto the bed, he squirmed as far away from her as possible. "You're a sick, sick woman."

Chuckling, she followed him across the bed, crawling up onto his chest as she finally caught him at the edge.

They had both fallen into the misty moments before slumber, when Selina muttered, "there's mewling coming from your closet, Ed."

"There are at least a dozen cats that stay long after you've gone, Lina, and one of them decided to have a litter in my closet, so yes, there's mewling coming from my closet."


	2. Saturday

_**Good to see two old avatars. Thanks for the reviews Robot521 and Violeta27, much internet love sent your way (it's the good kind, I promise! See all hands accounted for!) and Berriesbing, I'm glad you're following the series and are enjoying yourself. Thank you kindly for your review, no one appreciates it more than me...and maybe that random guy from Sweden, but that's merely speculation on my part, I can't say for certain what he's thinking.**_

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><p><strong>Saturday, 1999<strong>

**Riddler**

It was surprisingly dead in Gotham, being that it was a Saturday night.

With Echo at the wheel, the Riddler sat in the passenger seat working on a crossword, calmly filling in his answers.

"Boss, hows about we get some ice cream?" Query asked, leaning forward from the back seat, to poke her head between him and her partner.

Tucking the capped top of the pen into his mouth, he pondered this.

"She has been good, boss." Echo said.

"Yes, but she gets too unfocused with sugar in her bloodstream." He pointed out twirling the pen in his dexterous hand. "How many bombs blow up parliament?"

"We don't have a parliament, boss."

"I'm aware, my dear, I'm merely curious as to how many it would take to blow up the British house of parliament."

"All three houses of parliament or just the Palace of Westminster with all three houses convening inside?" Echo asked, while at the same time from the backseat, Query chirped out, "a fuck-ton!"

Smirking, Edward turned in his seat to eye the blonde. "A fuck-ton, Query darling, isn't really a term of measurement."

"Sure it is, boss." She replied. "It's less than a giant's nutsack and more than a shitload. When are we going to blow it up?"

"I wasn't planning on actually blowing up the British parliament, my dear." He replied, casting his eyes back on his crossword. "I was merely thinking out loud."

"With sixteen point seven pounds of strategically placed C-4 plastic explosives, I could blow up the Palace of Westminster. Twelve point three pounds for the White House. And for the hell of it, we'll throw in the Canadian Capital Hill…it'd take about thirteen…give or take, if you want the actual hill destroyed that would take extra." Echo stated.

The Riddler quirked a brow at her. "You never cease to amaze me."

As he said this something black fell into the path of the car, causing Echo to slam on the brakes.

From the backseat Query launched into the space between the front seat passengers, up over the back of the bench seat in the front, halted by the Riddler who caught her before she slammed into the dashboard.

"Seatbelts save, my dear." He stated.

Pushing back her hair and replacing her stiff beaked police cap, she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, boss."

Grabbing his cane, he opened the car door. "Keep it idling." He commanded, moving around the open door to kneel at the side of the black form, leaning on his cane. "The middle of the street is not the best place to take respite, Selina."

Beneath his feet the pavement trembled and the Riddler looked up and over to find a large, bulky form barrelling down the street towards them.

"Bane," she pointed out, climbing to her feet shakily.

"I see that." He replied, holding her by her elbow to keep her steady. "Well, get in and get down."

Taking aim with his cane, he looked down the length of it.

"A trick cane isn't going to stop him," she growled. "The man's an animal when he's on the juice."

Pressing the little button on the side of the handle, Edward shot a netting of metal cable over the form of Bane. "It'll slow him down. Get in the car, my dear." He led her to the open door and pushed her in as Bane struggled with the netting, it didn't take long for him to tear it to shreds, but by then Echo had the Buick going full tilt in reverse. She pulled a bootleg turn and floored it, leaving the hulking man in the dust.

Straightening his tie, the Riddler smiled smugly at the woman in PVC who sat between Echo and himself in the front. She was beaten, but nothing a little make up wouldn't cover.

"I didn't need your help, Eddie." She growled.

"It's Edward, my dear, and if you want we can drive you right the hell back."

Glancing coolly at him, she sighed. "Don't think this means I owe you one."

"I'd never call in a favour for rescuing a damsel in distress," he objected. "That's just tacky."

She sneered. "Ugh, drop me off here, I'd rather take my chances at having my limbs ripped off then sit here with you being smug."

Motioning to Echo to pull over, the Riddler smirked as Catwoman hesitated. Behind the car Bane was catching up fast, his powerful muscles thrusting him closer faster.

"Keep driving." She sighed heavily.

Edward motioned for Echo to drive on, a tiny triumphant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday, Now<strong>

Holding his morning tea to his bottom lip, he eyed the cat across from him with narrowed eyes.

"You can't stay here forever." Edward said.

She blinked.

"I mean it." He stated. Taking a sip of his tea, he watched as the fluffy calico turned tail on him and hopped down from the table to scurry off into his bedroom. Turning to his right, he eyed the black cat on the chair at his side. "The nerve of some women. Has a litter in my closet and can't even be bothered to pick up half of the rent."

Narrowing it's eyes, the cat hunched it's shoulders and began hacking wetly.

Disgusted, Edward turned his attention to his left where a grey and white cat lay on the chair there.

"You're the only one, Chairman Mao, who doesn't grate on my nerves."

His personal favourite, rolled onto his back for a belly rub, which Edward blessed him with gratefully, before pushing to his feet, sipping his tea. He paused by the sink, pushing an orange tabby off the counter, before setting his empty cup down.

"Try not to wreck the place." He commanded the apartment full of cats.

All he got in response was more wet hacking from somewhere in the hall.

* * *

><p>Inside his Buick, he eyed the low rent apartment building, waiting for something to prove there were living things dwelling somewhere within the crumbling brick.<p>

On a small travel sized TV on the floor of his passenger side a quiz show played, Edward wasn't watching, but he was answering idly to pass the time.

_**Ottoman forces defeated the Safavids at this famous battle, gaining control of eastern Anatolia and northern Iraq in 1514.**_

"What is the Battle of Chaldiran?" Edward muttered, hiding a yawn politely.

_**What is the Battle of the Northern Ridge?**_

"Philistine."

The passenger door opened and closed silently. "Why do you even bother, Edward?"

Eyeing the tall, lanky form of Jonathan Crane, Edward pulled a face. "It keeps me sharp. How'd you find me?"

_**This is a psychedelic hallucinogenic drug of the tryptamine family that has a unique aural effect.**_

Sighing deeply, Edward motioned to Crane for him to go ahead and answer.

"Diisopropyltryptamine." The Scarecrow said.

_**What is Dimethyltryptamine?**_

"What is this world coming to when people can't get DiPT and DMT straight?"

"What do you want, Crane?"

The tall, lanky man shifted his form in the seat and sighed. "A man can't visit with an old friend, Edward?"

At the Riddler's long, even look, Crane scowled.

"Ivy finally had her brat kid." He muttered an added, "who knew half plant people took longer to gestate..."

"And you were so excited about it that you felt the need to track me down to inform me of this?"

"Harley's been squealing for three hours. The lair was becoming unsafe to my mental health." The Scarecrow scowled deeply then. "It's a natural born instinct in a woman to desire a child of their own once they're presented with the reality of someone they know having one. It's called the 'maternal chain of events', in which one woman out of a group of women will get pregnant and her female companions will eventually begin turning their sights on children of their own. Thanks to Ivy, I can look forward to a hormonally charged Harley doing random acts of horror just to obtain a child."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Edward turned his head to eye the Scarecrow. "Random acts of horror?"

"Well, there's no way in hell I'm having sexual congress with her now, who knows what she may try in effort to get pregnant."

"Sounds to me like the Purveyor of Fear, is himself, afraid."

"Of course I'm afraid, have you ever seen an infant? They squeal and they squirm and they project their bodily fluids at an alarming rate at the most inopportune times…they're chubby little versions of people with tiny fingers and no hair and teeth. They're like…squirming pot roasts…and just you wait until they discover they can scream, because then they do it just for the fun of seeing your brain melt..."

"You're paranoid, Jonathan."

"Am I?"

"Yes. You most definitely are."

"Mark my words, Edward, the birth rate among females connected to Poison Ivy in Gotham's underground will rise." Crane pointed out, eyeing the building before them. "None of us will be safe once the chain of events is set in motion."

Edward's brow rose curiously. "The 'maternal chain of events' sounds like something you just made up."

"Of course I made it up, I first coined the phrase in my university thesis 'A Study of the Female Mind', believe me, Edward, I know what I'm talking about." Studying the dashboard, the Scarecrow frowned. "Do you always drive Buicks?"

"Only by chance. This, my dear Crane, is a rare 1971 Buick Riviera in British racing green. Isn't she a thing of beauty?"

"I could care less, I was attempting small talk." The man sniffed contemptuously. "I need you to get in contact with an old friend."

"So you _do _need something." Edward replied. "Well, you know the price."

"I shall 'owe you one', I know the price. You remember the terms of our agreement when we set the price." Crane snarled, flicking a piece of lint off of the forearm of his tweed suit jacket.

"Of course."

Reaching for his coffee cup, Edward held it in his hands for a moment, enjoying the warmth it provided. "What do you need?"

"Something only the Clock King can provide. But since he's playing well with others, he won't cooperate with someone like me."

Taking a sip, Edward relished the bitter brew mingled with the creamy sweet, before nodding. "Alright, but only because we're old friends, Crane."

* * *

><p>That night, sitting up in his bed, his head bowed to a book, Edward found his attention on anything other than the words. His eyes kept darting to Chairman Mao at the foot of his bed, bathing himself, then over to the closet where the sounds of mewling could be heard, then to the window and back to the book.<p>

He couldn't seem to focus, his mind was too wrapped up in what Crane had said. If half of what he said was even close to being true, could Selina very well be thinking of babies? Of course not, she wasn't the type! But still… No, he'd look into it tomorrow. Check the facts before he panicked. If he knew Crane, the bastard was probably just trying to spread fear among the male populace in Gotham's underground. Yes, of course, that was all.

Again his eyes made the path from the book, to Chairman Mao, to the closet, to the window and back.

But if the Scarecrow was telling the truth…

"Eddie?"

The Riddler twitched nervously, his head swivelling to the side so fast it hurt.

Selina Kyle stood there at the side of the bed in her Catwoman costume, looking amused. She looked rough, her costume battered, but she still managed to look amused.

"Good heavens, Lina, you can't sneak up on me like that…I'm nearing forty." He scolded, touching a hand to his chest.

Removing her diamond tipped gloves, she purred. "I didn't mean to scare you, but you were pretty deep in thought."

He held up the book. "Hobbes," he explained, before setting it aside. "What are you doing, my dear?"

Looking up from where she was arranging her gloves and boots on a chair in the corner of the room, she smirked. "Getting undressed for bed."

"You were here last night." He pointed out.

"Can't a girl come back two nights in a row?" She asked, unzipping her bodysuit.

Edward eyed the toned plains of her torso as it was revealed, grimacing at the large purpley-black bruise to her side. "Fighting, were we?" He tsked as she shed the bodysuit to reveal more lacerations and bruises.

She eyed the big bruise, arm raised ever so slightly. "It'll heal."

Pushing to his feet with a long suffering sigh, he moved down the hall and into the bathroom, retrieving his muscle rub. Coming back into the bedroom, he found her easing onto the bed in her underwear, holding her ribs.

"Are they broken?" He asked, kneeling before her.

"No, just bruised."

Setting aside the rub, he reached out for the bruise. "Let me see."

Hissing as he touched her side, he saw her leg jerk, about to kick him out of pure reflex.

"Careful," he warned softly. "I think you may have gotten lucky this time. But I'll still bandage them up."

Pushing to his feet, he watched as she struggled to lie back on the bed. Towering over her broken and battered body, he tilted his head at her vulnerability, before leaning down gingerly to press a kiss to her lips.

As he pulled away, he caught her smiling, her eyes closed in contentment. "Thanks, Ed." Painfully pushing to her feet, she headed for the hall. "I'm going for a shower before you strap me in. Do you mind?"

"I'd rather you did." He replied.

Shooting him a warning glance on her way out of the room, she left him to his thoughts once more.

* * *

><p>"Lina?" He asked later that night as she draped herself over top of him, mindful of her bruised ribs.<p>

"Hn?"

"Did you happen to hear about Ivy?"

She smirked. "She had her baby. A boy named Victor. Eight pounds, three ounces, he's perfectly healthy and normal...except for the fact he's got chlorophyll coursing through his veins."

"Yes. I heard all about him."

She pushed up slowly, bridging herself over his body to eye him in the near darkness. "What's the matter? You sound odd."

He frowned at her. "Well, if you must know, I think anything related to Ivy is going to grow up to be a pain in my ass."

Smiling, she splayed herself out over top of him again. "I'm sure he'll get some of his father's good sense."

"One can only hope."

Studying the ceiling above their heads, he floundered for a delicate way to put his next inquiry. "You…you're not really a…motherly type, are you?"

"Hm, maybe someday." Again she pushed up to look at him, staring down at him long and hard and then suddenly she beamed crookedly. "Ohhh, you talked to Crane, didn't you?"

"How…?"

Beaming at him, she moved up his body so that they were nose to nose. "I had lunch with Harley, she said she brought up the subject of babies and ever since Crane's been…weird…er than normal. I swear, you're shaking!"

"I'm not shaking!"

Grabbing his wrist, she held his hand up. "You're shaking!"

"It's a natural tremor, I've had it since youth." He argued.

"Um-hm, why's your heart beating so fast, Ed?"

Snatching back his hand, he frowned. "It's a defect, I'd thank you not to make mention of it."

Smiling, she pressed a kiss to his chest and settled back down.

"It's…" he pursed his lips. "It's just that I wouldn't be a good father."

"Oh, why do you figure that?"

"Because my father was the devil."

"Eddie, you'd be smart enough, should you ever have a child, to know that if you do the opposite of what he'd do, you'd be a pretty damned good father. Plus you build toys and love games."

"Go to sleep, Lina."

Rolling over, she used his shoulder as a pillow. "Don't worry, Ed, I have no desire to have a child any time soon." She was silent for a moment, before adding, "and certainly not with you. Wouldn't want to sully the gene pool."

"Keep that up, my dear, and I'll fertilize you out of spite."

"Oh, so reverse psychology does work…" she teased.

"You're still joking, right?" He asked.

"Quiet, Ed, I'm trying to sleep."

After he was certain she had fallen asleep, she muttered.

"Peter O'Toole," into his shoulder.

He peered down at the top of her head. "I'm sorry, did I fall asleep? Were we in the middle of a conversation?"

Smiling against his skin, Selina explained. "It was bothering me for the longest time. I couldn't think of why you looked so familiar."

"It may be because we've met previously."

Looking up at him, she smiled. "I mean, your looks are familiar, because you look like a young Peter O'Toole."

Frowning a little, Edward played with her hair. "How many painkillers did you take, my dear?"


	3. Sunday

_**Okay, I'll admit right now, I'm a Batman comic geek. There, it's been said. That **_**being**_** said, I'll admit that I'm fully aware the following scene from the past of their first meeting isn't how it really went down...but I thought, meh, I'll try my own version. That's the beauty of fanfiction...**_

_**Robot521, you're fast becoming one of my favourite people on the interweb.**_

_**Violeta27, you already are one of my favourite people.**_

_**Everyone else, thanks for not bitching about nit-picky details.**_

_**People of Sweden, hålla det verkliga.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Sunday, 1995<strong>

****Selina****

"I'd like to thank you all for coming to this meeting." Lex Luthor announced as he paced the room in the top floor of Metropolis' Hilliard High Rise building.

Around the table sat several villains, mostly based in the Metropolis area, but there was at least one whom Selina recognized. She had never met him, but she had seen his face plastered across papers throughout Gotham.

The Riddler.

He sat across from her and down a little, chair tilted back, smirking arrogantly, his hand stroking his chin. It seemed as though he wasn't even listening as he was eyeing the ceiling above them, eyes narrowed ever so. Everything about the man screamed 'sense of self-superiority'.

"Now, I've chosen you eight men and women for your specialized skills. Some of you," he eyed Selina, then the Riddler, "have come a long way. But I feel it will be worth the trip in the end."

"I should hope so." The Riddler spoke.

All eyes turned to him.

For the first time Selina heard the man's voice. He sounded like someone who could do voice over work. His voice was a clear tone, light, upbeat, well read.

"From what I hear your plans begin and end with us," the Riddler went on.

"You wouldn't be here if my offer didn't pique some interest on your end, Mr. Riddler." Luthor said calmly.

"Naturally, however my only problem with your plan is how little _you've_ actually invested in this. You brought us together in the hopes that we'd carry the weight of the mission, while the payout in the end doesn't seem to equal the work involved. Plus the hotel you put me up in doesn't even get the Discovery channel." Throwing his feet up onto the table before him, the Riddler leaned even further back in his chair and smiled. "But as you said, I wouldn't be here to hear you out if the offer wasn't tempting."

"I've been warned about your supreme arrogance." Luthor said.

"Good, then that means you should work twice as hard to please me." He reached for his cup of coffee and took a sip, pulling a face. "This coffee is terrible."

All the villains gathered looked to Luthor to see what he was going to do about the smart ass in the green suit.

Luthor merely pursed his lips and went on explaining the plan. When he finished up, the villains broke into small groups to discuss the plan, Selina headed off for the nearest exit. She was tired from the flight and wanted some time to sleep.

A form sidled up to her as she took the stairs. It was a forty floor trip down, but she was fit and wanted time to think about the plans laid out before her.

"You're the infamous Catwoman." The Riddler pointed out. He still carried his mug of terrible coffee and sipped at it casually as they jaunted down the stairs. "I've heard cat by name, cat by nature."

If she ignored him, he might go away.

"This deal isn't a good one." He said. "I'm packing up and taking my brilliance back home where I can put it to use on something of my own making."

She continued on in silence.

"Want to know why?" He asked after taking another sip of coffee.

"I could care less." She growled.

"Fair enough." He took another sip of coffee. "I may have over exaggerated back there."

Her curiosity was stroked. "You mean about the investment?"

"No, the coffee, it's not terrible. It's a strong, bitter brew, but it's palatable." Reaching up he set the empty mug on an emergency floodlight. "Now, let's try some proper introductions, my dear. My name is Riddler, you may call me _the _Riddler or just Riddler, I answer to both."

"I know who you are." She shot back.

He adjusted his tie. "My reputation precedes me, hn?"

"Hardly, I only know you're the Riddler because that's what Luthor called you. I've never heard of you until today." She lied, hoping to take his ego down a peg.

It seemed to have worked, because he scowled ever so.

"True genius is never recognized until it's too late." He replied sullenly.

Feeling a little better at deflating his puffed out chest some, she went on. "Are you from Metropolis?"

He looked a little flushed. "G-Gotham, I'm from Gotham City."

"Oh? Strange that I haven't heard of you then." She said slyly. With a self-satisfied smirk she left him standing in the stairwell somewhere between floors thirty-three and thirty-two.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunday, Now<strong>

"You wouldn't need to visit me so often if you learned simple clock care."

Behind the customer at the front of the line, Edward smirked.

"It's not my fault this damned watch needs winding every hour." The customer protested.

Temple Fugate sighed irritably. "It wouldn't need winding every hour if you maintain it." He snarled. "I'm done with your ignorance, get out."

And just like that the customer was dismissed, leaving a trail of grumbling obscenities behind him.

Edward stepped up to the counter.

"Yes?" Temple snarled, checking his pocket watch.

"I'm amazed you're still in business, Temple."

The man looked up, hazel eyes narrowed, before sharply snapping his watch closed. "Edward Nygma."

"How's work with the government?"

"I have no time for small talk," the man snapped. "But if you must know…my ideas were too radical for them." The man spoke quickly, efficiently, he never had time to mince words.

"Ah, I understand that perfectly."

"Are you here for my services?"

Leaning against the counter, Edward smirked. "Are you soliciting me, Temple?"

The man growled low under his breath. "I have no time for comical double entendres, Nygma. Do you have a watch to repair or not?'

Touching his waistcoat, Edward pulled his own pocket watch out and unclipping it, handed it over to the Clock King.

Taking the watch, Temple moved off into the back of the store, his pace a fast, fluid march. "If you have anything to say, you'd better say before I finish." He ordered.

Following the man into the backroom, Edward sat down across from the cluttered table from him. Much like his apartment, the work area was the only place cluttered with junk and tools, the rest of the office clean and smelling faintly of lemon.

"I need your help, Temple." Edward said, cutting to the chase.

Smoothly opening the back of the pocket watch, Fugate frowned. "No, my schedule is full."

"I'll make it worth your while."

"Money isn't my object in life, Nygma, and you know that." He tightened some gears.

"Well, I could throw a few more hours in the day for you…but in the long run it wouldn't make much difference…" Edward replied, leaning back in his chair. "In your heart of hearts, time will always be the same."

"You have precisely two minutes thirty-eighty seconds remaining before I complete my task. Are you so certain you want to waste your time making wise?"

Throwing his hands up in mock fear, Edward gasped. "Heaven forbid, Temple. What can I do for you to get you to open up your schedule for me?"

The Clock King's hands slowed ever so. He was thinking.

Edward took that moment to study the office further. In the corner by the door was a hat rack with Temple's signature black bowler hanging next to his black oxford suit jacket. He really didn't care much for Fugate, but in the long run he preferred the Clock King over the Cluemaster any day. Temple was actually quite a bit more like Edward than either man cared to admit.

"There's one task you could perform for me." Temple said.

"As long as it's legal."

"There's a woman," Temple began cautiously.

"Oh?" This came as a shock to the Riddler. Fugate didn't seem the type to take interest in man nor woman nor beast of any kind.

Dropping his head, Temple pushed himself deeper into his work. "She works in the flower shop across the street."

"No time to court, huh?"

"Of course not! She is a distraction! I want her fired from her shop."

Edward pushed his brows up. "You want me to a get a woman fired because she distracts you?"

"I cannot be distracted, Nygma. Time passes by constantly. I _cannot _afford distractions. I miss a second here or there, soon it culminates and I find a minute lost, then hours. And soon I find time has been wasted. Merely because some woman with a pretty face and charming smile is arranging irises in vases across the street."

"How dare she," Edward agreed.

"Mocking me is perhaps the worst waste of time you've ever committed," Temple said, snapping Edward's pocket watch closed and handing it over. "Get rid of the woman and then I will pencil you in."

Taking the watch, Edward nodded. "I'll see what I can do. How much?"

"I don't do it for the money, Edward."

Shaking his head, Edward moved out of the office. "…amazed you're still in business…"

Stepping out of the shop, he darted across the street.

Pushing into the florists was a pleasant change from the cold outside.

Inside among the posies, he scanned the shop for a worker. The infamous distraction.

A form knelt down low to his right, setting a bunch of gladiolas into a vase on the floor, their back to him.

"Excuse me?" Edward greeted. "I'm looking for a pretty distraction."

The woman pushed to her feet and turned.

Edward snorted in amusement. "One million people in this city…"

"Small world," Maggie Kyle greeted, a bright charming grin on her face.

"How have you been, my dear?" He asked, rocking back on one foot and planting his cane firmly on the floor.

"Good, much better than I was in Arkham."

"I'm happy for you, Maggie." He said.

"So, you're here to buy some flowers? For Selina?"

Edward smiled. "I'm not sure she wouldn't take that as a threat."

"She'd feel threatened by flowers?" Maggie asked.

"From me, yes. I tried it once and she didn't seem very amused." he pocketed his hands and glanced out the window to where Fugate's Watch Repair Shop sat. "Listen, my dear, you don't happen to arrange irises in vases in your window all that often, do you?"

She furrowed her brow delicately. "It's nearly spring…I have been promoting the springtime flowers. Why?"

"Neighbourhood complaint." He replied.

Glancing in the direction of the window, a look of understanding passed over her face. "It's the fellow from the clock shop, isn't it?" She laughed softly. "Sometimes, I look out the window while I'm working and catch him staring at me, but whenever I smile at him he gets an annoyed look on his face."

"Yes, Temple's always been an unfriendly sort." Edward said, his mind working sharply. He would appease Fugate however he could. "Would you like to go and meet him? We're old friends."

Maggie laughed. "I'm working."

"It's a mere dash across the narrow street, my dear. I think you and he might get along." He smiled his broad, charming smile.

With a look so much like Selina's, the woman tilted her head. "Are you trying to set me up with the man from the clock shop?"

"Of course not," Edward said. "I don't play matchmaker, it's demeaning to my intellect."

And then, just like her sister had entered the shop and replaced the brown haired sister, Maggie spoke, "you need something, don't you?"

Edward swallowed. "Uncanny."

So utterly unlike Selina, Maggie laughed openly then, smile sweet and bright to counterbalance her sister's dark, mysterious grin. "What's uncanny? That I can see the gears working?"

"It's uncanny, how you - like your sister - enjoy tormenting me." He replied gruffly. "You do enjoy it, don't you? Get a perverse shiver of delight, do we?"

Laughing outright at him, Maggie touched a hand to his chest. "Alright, can the act, Mr. Nygma. I'll go meet your friend. I do owe you one."

"You're a sweet girl, Maggie." He stopped her with a gentle hand. "Do you happen to have a watch on you?"

She removed the one on her wrist.

Taking it, Edward smiled. "Was this a gift?"

"No."

"Forgive me for this, then, my dear. Extenuating circumstances, you see." Taking the watch he dropped it on the floor and stepped heavily on it.

She gaped at him.

* * *

><p>The little bell rang as they entered the shop.<p>

Fugate, head bowed to his work, didn't even look up as they stepped up to the counter. "What?" He demanded after a long suffering sigh.

Maggie stuck her hand out firmly. "Maggie Kyle, it's good to finally meet you, Mr. Fugate."

The Clock King gave the offered hand a look of appal. "If you're not here for my services, please leave." Checking his pocket watch, he sniffed. "Now is the time for work, if you wish to make my acquaintance, you may do so in two hours, thirty-one minutes and eight seconds. At which time you'll have a ten minute window between closing the shop and leaving fo-"

Edward dropped the mangled watch on the counter. "We need serious repairs, Fugate."

Taking hold of the watch between his thumb and forefinger, the Clock King picked it up gingerly. A piece of the band flopped off and clinked on the glass countertop below.

Temple looked mildly horrified.

"I hope it can be saved." Edward purred innocently. "It was a gift from her sister. Very important to her."

Fugate scowled ever so, still eyeing the time piece with crossed eyes. "I might be able to save it, but it may take a while. I'll have to get scrap parts off of one of my other pieces..."

Setting all the money he had on him on the counter, Edward smiled. "Take your time."

Ignoring the cash, Fugate cupped the watch in his hands and scurried towards the office.

Touching a hand to Maggie's shoulder, Edward leaned in. "Follow him, if you will, my girl. Give him a little wink now and then. I'll watch your shop for you."

Maggie looked at him curiously.

"Please?"

She nodded.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>Standing behind the flower shop counter with his finger poised to his chin, Edward played over his plan, ensuring all pieces were in the proper places for the endgame.<p>

It was obvious Temple Fugate found Maggie attractive, otherwise she wouldn't be such a distraction for him. If he could get the man to make peace with that fact, then he could get what he needed from the Clock King without getting Maggie fired and move on to the next phase of his plan, get what he needed from Crane and then have the Scarecrow owe him. Having a favour point with the Scarecrow was always a good thing.

"Not making enough to pay the rent, Nygma? Had to take a second job?"

At the cold, frigid tone, he snapped from his pondering to find Poison Ivy standing across the counter from him, her skin was flesh coloured with only a hint of it's natural green tint.

He tilted his head at her, embarrassed to be caught behind the counter of a flower shop by her. Anyone but the one woman he hated most in all of Gotham.

"Filling in for a friend." He returned cautiously, eyeing her.

Placing a hand on her perfectly curved hip, Ivy smirked wickedly. "Of course you are."

At her condescending tone, he drew himself together, preparing for the battle. The woman got his hackles up faster than any living creature could.

"I'm amazed a woman with a newborn can find the time to wander Gotham frivolously." He pointed out.

"Hn, cute. Well, why don't you run along into the backroom and get me my order?" She cooed.

Placing his hands on the countertop, he leaned forward ever so, mindful of the distance it took her to waft her pheromones. It took him years of succumbing to her goddamned tricks to know the proper distance. "I'd rather set this entire place ablaze."

"Do you really want to anger me in a flower shop, Ed?"

The potted ivy to his right began to grow, curling around it's wrought iron plant stand at an alarming rate.

It was a mere warning, Edward knew Ivy wouldn't cause a scene…not without proper provocation. Still he gripped his cane tighter, thankful he chose the one with the concealed sword for the day.

"Well, if you're not going to do your job, I guess I'll just help myself." As she made to move around the counter, Edward cut her off with his cane.

"Sorry," he said. "Employees only."

The ivy shot out, wrapping around his ankles and Edward drew his sword, slicing the vines off, before leaping over the counter to avoid further attack. He was just thankful they weren't her specialty vines or he'd never see the light of day again.

"Oh, vines already, huh? I guess that means I win this round." He taunted.

Ivy turned on him, her flesh green, hair wild. The potted plants of the shop came alive with a vengeance.

Near the front of the shop the door chimed and an elderly woman stepped in.

Passing by her, Edward handed off the sheath of his sword and fedora. "Hold these." Leaping and rolling, he avoided some of the worst of the plants, slicing off a majority of them.

Ivy, spotting a witness, retreated into the back to no doubt get her order and leave.

Still battling a few plants until they stilled, Edward struggled to catch his breath. He wasn't young enough to deal with Ivy like he used to.

Stepping back behind the counter, avoiding the vines that draped everywhere, he leaned against it casually, eyeing the old woman at the door who still held his sword sheath and hat.

"How may I help you?"

Carefully, she shuffled to the counter. "D-do you have daffodils?"

Taking the rest of his cane from her politely, he sheathed his sword and replaced his hat. "Cut or potted?"

* * *

><p>Stepping into the clock shop that night after Maggie relieved him at the flower shop, Edward found Fugate closing up, his face a little flustered.<p>

Smirking, the Riddler leaned against the doorway of the office and watched the Clock King prepare to leave for the night. "Well, I guess I'll file a complaint with Miss Kyle's boss…get her fired for you."

"Forget it, Nygma." Temple said. "I'll rearrange my schedule, give you an hour of my time." He sat down to do it, opening an electronic organizer and tapping away at the buttons.

"Oh?" Edward asked innocently. "Something change your mind?"

"Don't give me that." The man clipped. "What do you need?"

"I don't need an hour." He explained. "I just need you to build me one of your toys. I could do it myself, but it'd take me longer to figure out theory and engineering."

"Which device?"

"A matter transporter."

"Matter?"

"Living, organic matter. And the receptor has to be small enough to be concealed on a body."

"That small?"

"Can you do it?"

Temple pondered this. "I can make the tag receptor device the size of a freckle, but the transmitter station will have to be a bit larger."

Adjusting his plan swiftly, Edward nodded. "Can you make it the size of a suitcase?"

"I can make it the size of a baseball glove."

"I need it in four days."

"Four? No, no, no…this won't work."

"Make it four, Temple, and I'll see about working that pretty distraction into your schedule."

Fugate flushed a little. "Four days."

Beaming, Edward tipped his hat. "Good, I'm glad I didn't have to force you to comply."

"Force?"

"Goodnight, Temple."

* * *

><p>By the time he left his office, it was nearly three in the morning and Edward was fairly certain he had joined the walking dead as he slogged his way up the stairs towards his apartment.<p>

Since going back to work, he had shifted his night owl habits around and now found his body unaccustomed to being awake so late, but helping Crane acquire his matter transporter had set his own work behind and he wanted to keep caught up.

Fumbling with his key in the lock, he finally managed to open his door and stepped inside.

It was dark and still in his home, something he had expected. Selina would more than likely be gone by now. He'd see her again in a couple of weeks.

Locking up behind him, he hung up his hat and coat, peeling off his gloves and setting them on his hall table alongside his keys, he moved off down the dark hall towards his bedroom, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

Heading for his closet straight off, he carefully opened the door so as not to wake the batch of kittens and their mother. Hanging his tie, he removed his suit jacket and hung that as well, before turning to drop his cufflinks in the dish on his dresser.

Falling into his nice soft bed sounded almost orgasmic to him.

Untucking his shirt, he glanced at the bed and found a dark head of hair tucked deep into his bedding.

Moving across the room, he took hold of his blanket to pull it down far enough to find Selina curled up sleeping.

"Hn." He supposed she decided to stay one more night.

"You smell like the hospital." She mumbled sleepily, before opening her eyes.

Easing onto the side of the bed, he smirked. "That's because I live a secret life as a brilliant surgeon."

"Liar," she purred.

"I was in a place cleaner than most in Gotham. It was a perfectly lovely, sterile little place." He said. "Decided to stay for one more night?"

"My ribs still hurt, I figured it wouldn't kill me to just get some rest and your bed is comfier than mine."

Touching a hand to her thick, silky hair, he stroked it out of her face. "Well, between you and the ten cats at your side, someone has to make room for me."

"Good luck with that, Ed."


	4. Monday

**Robot521, beneath that robot chassis of yours beats a real heart. It may be a slimey human heart pilfered through somewhat questionable means, but it's a heart nonetheless. You really made my day with your review. The thing I always loved about the Riddler was the fact that no matter how cool he could be at times, Ivy always managed to get a quick rise out of him. The rivalry between those two in the comics keeps me amused.**

* * *

><p><strong>Monday, 2001<strong>

**Edward**

"Riddler!"

Edward turned at the sound, finding Batgirl swooping down onto the rooftop of the Gotham City Bank, their so-called 'neutral ground'. She smiled tentatively to him, still in the mindset that he posed a threat. It wasn't his favourite thing, helping out the Bat by working as a low level informant on some of his ex-colleagues, but Commissioner Gordon had been fairly persuasive when twisting the screw, so Edward became a reluctant relay man on the condition he only deal with Batgirl. She was the only one he really cared for out of the bunch.

He pocketed his hands in his trouser pockets, a habit he usually found low-brow, but found helpful in putting crime fighters at ease.

"You said it was urgent." She went on.

"No, I didn't." He pointed out. "I said it was important."

"In my line of work 'important' is usually 'urgent'."

Edward smiled, he found himself forcing it a little. "I understand the Bat's been battling Joker and Scarecrow a bit."

"Mostly the Joker, Crane's been playing the submissive in this caper. Mostly he's just been picking our heads with his psycho-analytical bullshit."

Carefully Edward withdrew the schematics Fries had given him. "You might find this interesting."

She took the papers carefully, blue eyes shining with curiosity. "What are they?"

"The Bat will be able to tell you better, I have no patience for explaining the 'how's' of something, merely the 'why's'."

Batgirl nodded. "Sure, but can you tell me where you got this?"

"No, I have to keep my sources secret." He replied.

The wind picked up then, whipping Batgirl's fiery hair around like bloody flames. "Was it Fries?"

Despite keeping his features stoic, Edward found this query interesting. Why would Batgirl's first suspect be Victor Fries? "I can't say." He insisted.

She nodded again. "Well, thanks. If this info's helpful, I'm sure Batman will be grateful." Taking a step towards him, Batgirl seemed to hesitate. "A-Are you okay, Riddler? You seem off tonight."

"Without a switch," he muttered.

Something slammed into him hard, then, coming from the sky above. Edward, winded on the ground, struggled to bounce back to his feet, knowing that being slow in Gotham usually resulted in a final rest in a silk lined box.

"I'll be needing those schematics, child." Scarecrow greeted Batgirl, who had taken a defensive stance of her own.

Edward, coughing, eyed the two before him. He wasn't important to either one it appeared. The burlaped one stood a good foot and half taller than Batgirl, even in her boots, and while she wore a good warrior face, neither one seemed better matched than the other when it came to combat, for Scarecrow had nasty tricks up his sleeve and Batgirl was a trained crime fighter.

Knowing the scourge of Gotham's underworld well, Edward glanced around for henchmen, but found none visible. He then looked for an exit.

"Why are these so important, Scarecrow?" Batgirl demanded calmly. "They're just papers."

"I once treated a man," Crane began almost wistfully. "He was a pica, liked to eat paper. Well, paper in small doses isn't harmful, hell in moderately large doses, it still wouldn't even upset the stomach. But he ate a whole phonebook in one sitting. The acidity of the paper ate away at the lining in his stomach, before eating away at the muscle and finally the tissue." Scarecrow chuckled. "You should have seen the autopsy. It was magnificent."

"Are you changing vocations from terrorist to storyteller, Scarecrow?" Batgirl demanded.

Edward pulled back further, slipping into the shadows of the rooftop. Batgirl could handle herself, he, however, didn't feel quite like entering back into the world of crime, either as a fighter or a criminal.

"Where you going, Eddie-boy?"

At the all too familiar craggy drawl, Edward froze.

From out of the shadows of a stairwell, the Joker emerged smiling like life was one big joke. Behind him his minions followed, there weren't as many as there could be, but there were enough.

"See, I don't mind you playing nice with the other kids, Eddie-boy." Joker said softly. "But when you stick your shovel in my sandbox, I get a little red hot under the collar."

Warily eyeing the minion approaching him with what looked like a jerry can, Edward swallowed thickly and took a step back, reaching into his breast pocket for one of the many knives he kept on his person. Gordon banned his cane's, so all Edward had to protect his person was a flimsy knife. But a man would have to be as mad as the Joker to wander around the streets of Gotham without anything close to a weapon concealed on their person.

"How long have we been friends, Eddie-boy?" Joker asked, his tone still frighteningly soft. When the Joker was seemingly docile, that meant he had already decided on the outcome of his actions. Such was madness.

"Five? Six years? Seven?"

Edward took another step back from the jerry can wielding minion, slashing at another who was trying to get on his right side, he caught the man across the cheek and he retreated, yelping like a wounded dog, holding his bloody face.

The Joker chuckled as Edward's knife welding arm was assaulted by three more minions.

"Possibly longer, possibly shorter."

"Jack," Edward began evenly, wincing at the pressure the minions were placing on his wrist. "We've never been friends. Don't delude yourself."

This may have been the wrong thing to say to anyone else, but to the Joker, it was a laugh and a half.

The man beamed maniacally at the Riddler, meanwhile one of his thick-necked thugs doused the man in the green three piece suit with the tangy smelling gas from the jerry can.

Edward spat out the gas that had dripped into his mouth and struggled through the sting in his eyes to make out the Joker's position. He took several steps back from the men assaulting him. "Look." he began. "Killing me won't stop anything once it's set in motion. Batgirl has probably already sent word to the Bat and his little boy and they'll be here. Your best bet is to just run, Jack." Through the misty veil of his sight, Edward saw a flash of light and knew the Joker was there before him, lighting a match.

"If you can't stand the heat, Eddie-boy, better get a new furnace." The madman laughed hard at his own joke.

Something zipped past Edward, hitting the water tower above him. There was a small bang, before water splashed down on the two men, dousing Edward yet again, but as the water rinsed the stinging gas out of his eyes, Edward found Batman was already on the scene, beating the Joker into a hesitant retreat.

Looking around for a good place to sit, Edward managed to haul himself over to an air vent and sat heavily on it, while around him a battle ensued. Reaching into his inner jacket pocket, he pulled out his emergency knock-out gas and gave a minion who fell too close to him a little spritz, before pulled his bowler off and shaking it dry.

Above him the water reservoir that Batman had blown a hole in, continued to rain down cold water on those involved in the struggle like rain from the heavens.

Spitting out more gas from his mouth, Edward continued to watch the fight before him. He really didn't care who won, as long as they both just left the area and him alone.

Squirming, he leaned to one side and reached down to pull the knife he usually kept in his back pocket, out and tucked it into his breast pocket.

"Rough night, Eddie?" A feminine form knelt at his side and he found Catwoman there, gazing up at him with amusement painted across her bared features. "You look a little shaken."

He spit out more gas. "I'm never making a deal with Gordon again, I can tell you that much right now."

Standing up, Selina eyed him for a moment, the battle still raging behind her. Glancing around, she leaned in. "Deal?" She whispered.

Edward scowled. "Don't ask."

"Why not?" She asked.

Pushing to his feet, Edward made a discontented sound in the back of his throat. "Because it was doomed to fail. I should go."

Catwoman followed him. "What happened?"

"Really?" He asked. "The Bat is engaging in an all out battle with the madman's Gwynplaine and you want to hold a nice conversation about my error in judgement? I was nearly immolated!"

"But you weren't."

Brushing himself off pointedly, Edward sniffed and forced himself to calm down. "I may be trying to behave myself, but I will goddamned ruin the Joker if he tries anything with me again."

"Eddie…" she tried to argue, but he was already fading into the shadows.

* * *

><p><strong>Monday, Now<strong>

"Get up!"

Opening his eyes, he found a pair of big violet eyes peering down at him, a curtain of dark hair shielding them from the world.

"Lina, you're sticking around this morning I see." He growled, throat dry from the night.

"I called your office and said you weren't coming in today." She said, climbing off him.

"Oh? And how do you expect me to pay rent this month if I don't go into work?" He asked.

"You'll be able to pay rent and still miss a day." She purred.

"What time is it?"

"Six, you'd better get up." She hopped onto the bed.

Rubbing his face with his hands, Edward sighed. "Oh God, you're a morning person."

"Not usually, but I've been up since four going through your stuff."

Carefully easing into a sitting position, he sniffed. "Find anything interesting?"

Holding up a pair of handcuffs, she smirked. "Well, I found these…"

"Those are from my Riddler days, dear." He pointed out, snatching them from her hand.

* * *

><p>They were perched on the edge of his apartment building's rooftop, Edward munching on a piece of toast, Selina sipping a warm mug of coffee.<p>

"Question: why am I freezing my ass off before the sun's even thought of rising?"

"Answer: because shut up." She replied.

Sighing, Edward took another bite of his dry toast, before crumbling the rest for the pigeons. "But why am I missing work for this?"

"Because we're going to do some normal things today like normal people, Ed."

Taking the mug from her, he took a sip to wash down the toast and pulled a face. He had forgotten she drank her coffee black in the mornings. "But we're not normal, Lina."

"That's what's going to make it fun. Pretending to be normal."

"You're going to make me wear blue jeans, aren't you?"

"At some point, yes."

"Can I take a nap when we're done being normal?'

"Yes."

"Alright, I'm in."

* * *

><p>Their first stop as a normal couple was a greasy spoon diner for a proper breakfast. Edward sat on one side of the booth balancing sugar packets on a spoon that was balanced on the salt and pepper shakers, that was balanced on the syrup rack. He was grateful that Selina had been joking about the blue jeans, because he sat across from her in one of his favourite suits, quietly eyeing her as he attempted a balancing act to amuse himself. He always felt his three piece oxford was the one suit of his that made him feel even sexier, gave him more confidence.<p>

She was wearing a knit sweater that was neither sexy nor ugly, but cute, which seemed odd on the infamous Catwoman, but she seemed happy in it and she still looked beautiful with her flowing black locks that twisted with large curls. Edward had never seen her look more lovely and she wasn't even trying.

What was it about her that had always intrigued him?

Her eyes? Sure they were large and sultry, they spoke of things she would never say, but it wasn't just her eyes.

He added another packet to the balancing act.

Her voice? Soft and flinty, powerful enough to command armies, but gentle enough to appease lovers. As seductive as it was, it wasn't just her voice.

Another packet.

Was it her smile? Or her laugh? Or the way her eyes lit up when she found something amusing? Or her scent or the way she could handle herself? Was it her long, toned legs or the curve of her waist? Was it that naughty little freckle that he adored so much? Or the scar that ran up the middle of her torso? Was it her sharp wit or her clever mind? The way she teased and tormented him for her own amusement? Was it her devotion to cats, pets, strays, old sick ones, young healthy kittens, any or all?

It wasn't just one thing, it had to be the entire package.

Here was a woman, strong and beautiful, who actually wanted to be around him - who could actually stand his quirks - sitting across the booth from him calmly eating blueberry pancakes with powdered sugar and whipped cream.

It occurred to him, just then as he added another packet to his tower, that he actually felt more for Selina Kyle than he first surmised.

When he came across her on Christmas robbing gifts from that couple, she was without any place to go. So was he. People tended to forget at Christmas that there are those who have no one to spend the holiday with, that for some it's not a season of togetherness, but just another day.

He could remember a small part of him being excited at perhaps having her come with him to spend the holiday, to get drunk off of scotch and fill their bellies full of crackers, to wake up and find someone there to whisper 'Merry Christmas' to. Selina was a fine conversationalist, she kept up with him most of the time and wasn't some vapid person with nothing to say.

Edward wouldn't have wanted to spend his time with anyone else, his excitement that Christmas had been over the fact that it was Selina Kyle.

Would he have been so accommodating for others? Had it been Jervis Tetch or anyone else, would he have invited them back to his apartment to spend Christmas?

No.

He wouldn't pretend he would be so kind as to extend the invitation to anyone other than the woman across the booth from him.

Suddenly, he realized that perhaps his feelings for Selina were _actual _feelings. They weren't just something he pretended to have for his own amusement or personal gain, but that he actually cared about her life and her person.

The balancing tower crumbled as he flinched and things scattered across the worn table top.

Across from him, she smiled softly. "Why are you so quiet, Eddie?"

"I'm merely impressed by how many pancakes you've consumed so far." He teased.

"It's all you can eat pancakes and I plan to get my fill." She replied. "Why? Are you worried I might get fat?"

"I may be new to having a woman in my life, Selina, but even I know well enough to steer clear of that subject."

With a grin, she pushed the empty plate away and stretched. "Okay, I'm done."

* * *

><p>They were wandering the cold, late spring park under an awning of maples that stretched over their heads, barren of leaves and groaning in the wind. It may have been cold, but even Edward couldn't deny that it was beautiful.<p>

Children were making snow forts out of the last of the snow, while the sun melted ice water drizzled from the eaves and turrets of the forts down into mini rivers that raged downhill and splayed over the path.

"What were you like as a teenager, Ed?" She asked.

He pondered this. "Hn, well…you know that smelly kid who sat in the back row?"

"Of course, all schools had that kid."

"I was the boy who sat next to him. Unremarkable. Overlooked for the stinky kid."

Jumping over a puddle, she smirked back at him. "If you had said you _were _the smelly kid I would have believed you too."

"No, I was okay smelling, I suppose." He replied, moving around the puddle. "I may have stared disturbingly at the girls in class, but they never noticed so I got away with it."

As though she did it everyday, Selina took his hand in hers and they continued on. "Oh, so you were the pervy kid."

"I wasn't _pervy_, I just appreciated the girls like any young heterosexual man would. I only did it better because no one paid me any attention."

Giving him a sly look, she pursed her lips. "Sounds like a pervert to me."

"Sounds like any teen boy, my dear."

"When did you lose your virginity?"

Distracted by the small hand he had just noticed was clasped in his, he frowned. "Hn?'

"Your virginity? When did you lose it?"

"Two nights ago."

"How sad that that was your first and last time, then." She teased.

"You're a very cruel woman with a very sharp tongue."

"Isn't that why you love me?"

As soon as she said it, both parties slowed their pace. There was an awkward veil of silence that fell over them, shielding them from the park as Selina realized the one word they had both been avoiding their entire lives had slipped out and Edward realized he now had to respond to it in some way.

But, he thought, she had said it. Freudian slips were a far cry from Tourettes, there was always a kernel of truth buried beneath them, if Freud was to be believed.

She began pulling her hand out of his grip, when he panicked and tightened his gloved hand around hers to keep it with him.

"I suppose," he began a little nervously, "that is one of the many reasons, yes."

Tentatively, he chanced a glance in her direction and found her eyes wide and panicked, staring back at him.

They both looked away quickly. They had been warriors of the Gotham underground, seen and done things that were perhaps a little unethical, but this was the one thing neither had really ever faced, not together and certainly not like this. It was something that could turn a hardened criminal into an awkward teenager.

It unnerved him, but at the same time Edward was a little elated.

Still after a few more minutes of awkward silence, he felt the need to break the tension.

"When is a toaster not a toaster?" He inquired.

She smirked wryly. "I don't know, Ed. When is a toaster not a toaster?"

"When it's a cat."

Selina Kyle frowned up at him. "I don't get it."

Pulling them into a stop, he beamed nervously down at her. "Oh…uh, it's a cat that comes and stays sometimes. I named him Toaster." It was then, standing in the puddle where he had pulled them to a stop, that he noticed she had nothing around her neck in the cold spring weather. He unwound his scarf from around his own neck and began to loosely pile it around hers as he went.

"That's a terrible name." She pointed out.

He adjusted the scarf. "I'm not really an experienced pet owner, my dear. It was the first name that came to mind."

Reaching up she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down so that she could press her lips to his.

It was strange, but that kiss was the first kiss Edward ever really felt. Even as they stood with their shoes filling with icy cold, muddy water, kissing in the middle of a crowded park, his long scarf still half wound around his own neck, it felt to him like the best kiss he'd ever receive.


	5. Tuesday

_**Robot521, would it shock you if I were to say, I don't care much for the Joker? Shocked? He's just too overused. However, writing him is loads of fun. And I meant every word about you, you're a very kind person. Don't ever lose that.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Tuesday, 2002<strong>

**Selina**

The Nebu Sphinx.

A piece of ancient statuary in 24 carat gold that had been shipped from Egypt to Gotham on tour was what really started the whole mess.

How could she not be tempted? She was broke, bored and it was so rare.

She had crept into the basement where the Gotham Art Gallery had been working on restoring it, feet flying over the porcelain tile like whispers.

The security system and guards weren't a problem, a little hacking here, some wire cutting there, nice heavy boots and years of training, and she was in, moving through the shadows of the basement towards the room where they kept the piece.

Selina was in the middle of picking a simple lock on the door into the restoration area, when soft footfalls on the tile caught her attention.

Knowing that it couldn't be one of the guards that she had already neutralized, she took cover around a nearby corner.

Carefully moving up to the edge, she peeked around the corner and spied a troop of men marching down the hall towards her.

Pointed chin, green bowler with a purple band, gold question mark cane pushing said hat back.

The Riddler was leading the pack.

She watched him wander down the hall in an all too cavalier fashion, cane twirling, thugs trailing behind him like four eighty thousand pound elephants.

He took three more steps beyond her hiding place, before pausing, his back to her.

The bowler angled and his sharp jaw line entered Selina's view as he glanced over his shoulder.

She ducked a little lower into the shadows.

"I know you're only just amending to opposable thumbs, but please, gentleman, do be careful with that box, hn?"

The apes grunted a confirmation, before dropping a brightly wrapped green present with a thud. Tapping the floor with his cane in irritation, Eddie sighed, before moving around the hall like a peacock strutting.

"I swear it's like tending a flock of geese at times." He growled.

"Sorry, boss."

"Sorry is a game for children, Mark, pick it up."

As he studied the men as they attempted to pick up the box from where they had dropped it, Selina studied him.

Tall, lean, standing with an air of arrogance, one hand casually tucked into his trouser pocket, the other resting on the crook of his cane.

Biding her time until the man passed, she found her eyes drifting over his form, observing him for the first time in great detail. Like watching a nature program and seeing a meerkat up close and personal and discovering they had tiny spots on their chests.

Eddie was like that meerkat now under gaze.

She had often wondered things about him, she did that with everyone in Gotham's underworld. Why did the Riddler wear gloves all the time? Why was the Penguin oddly captivating despite his rotund form? How come Two-Face seemed more sad than angry?

Watching as the Riddler stuck a long leg out before him and tapped his foot, Selina smirked.

As though he felt her eyes on him, he turned his face towards her shadows, electric eyes meeting hers.

Did he see her?

He smirked ever so and twirled his cane.

Of course he did.

* * *

><p><strong>Tuesday, Now<strong>

He had just wrapped up a case involving a brother who was cheating with his sister-in-law, typing up the report for his own case files, when Jim Gordon stepped into his office unannounced.

Right away Edward knew the meeting wouldn't end well.

"Commissioner." Edward greeted politely.

The man looked around the office, despite his knowledge that Gordon absolutely hated him, Edward was pleased to note the man wasn't snooping, but merely getting a feel for his new surroundings.

"Edward," the man began, his voice gruff and commanding.

"Checking in with the riff-raff, Jim?" He asked, throwing his feet up on his desk and leaning his chair back on two legs.

Gordon eased into the chair across from him. "Cut the shit, Nygma. It pains me to see dirt like you out and about free as you please."

Pointing a finger at the man, Edward smirked. "It takes a lot of chutzpah to walk into a man's office and call him dirt to his face. I like your style, have I ever mentioned that?"

"Let me finish, Nygma. It pains me that dirt like you walks my city without any chains keeping you in check, but what pains me more is that grinning son of a bitch coming back to Gotham with the mein of a King returning from battle."

This was news to Edward, but he kept that to himself.

"Having some troubles with the Joker, Jim?"

"I need to know where he's keeping himself."

Swiveling the chair so that his legs rested on the corner of his desk and his elbow leaned against his blotter, Edward studied the moustached older man. "Sounds an awful lot like a favour..."

"I was," the man paused to shift in his seat, "hoping you might be able to help me out some in exchange for some leniency in your parole conditions."

"Didn't turn out so well last time, as I recall," he replied.

Gordon sighed deeply. "Edward, I'll be honest with you. I'm willing to make a deal with you in order to get the Joker, which is about as appealing to me as cutting my own face off with a shard of glass. But I want the Joker behind bars and if making nice with you it what it will take, then I'm all for it."

"Let me piece this all together, Jim. You come into my office without an appointment, call me dirt, then ask me to calmly lay face down on the bascule for you?" Edward smiled. "I'd better be getting one hell of a deal!"

He could see how the man across from him was finding absolute distaste at the entire ordeal and it pleased Edward to no end to watch Gordon squirm.

"We do surveillance now and then on ex-con's like yourself, Edward. Enforcing the terms of their parole under the state laws."

Edward stroked his chin with his hand, something he did when nervous.

A photograph was slid across his desk, skidding to a halt as it bumped against his elbow.

There he was in grainy black and white - clichéd and a little trite - in the middle of the park, holding Selina tightly, their mouths locked.

"Jesus, Gordon." He snarled, more angry at himself than the Commissioner.

"Associating with any of the known scum from Gotham's underworld is a violation of your parole, Edward."

Drawing himself together, Edward frowned. "While we're insulting close personal friends, Jim, I have a few words about that bat-shaped girlfriend of yours…"

Gordon pursed his lips. "I'd watch that tongue of yours, Nygma. I'm willing to ignore this indiscretion for you, if you do me this one favour. Catwoman is a two-bit thief, but she's not an immediate threat to anyone's life."

Sighing, Edward ground his teeth. If he did snoop around for the Joker's whereabouts on behalf of the GCPD, it would most definitely be the last thing he ever did, but being put back into Arkham on a parole violation...no. It would ruin his pride to be locked up for something so minor.

"I'll see what I can find out for you."

Reaching into his pocket, Gordon pulled out a film roll and held it up. "You do that and this is yours."

"How wonderful, like a treat for an obedient mutt." He muttered, pushing to his feet to shake the man's hand warily. "If I find him, you'll put him away for good?"

"I will." Gordon replied taking his hand.

"And you'll leave me and the Cat alone?"

"Yes."

As they shook, Edward smirked. "Why do I feel like Faust right now?"

"I was thinking the same thing."

* * *

><p>"You can't go in there."<p>

Edward cautiously eyed the behemoth standing in his way from under the brim of his green fedora.

"Tell the Penguin that E. Nygma is here to see him."

"Do you have an appointment with Mr. Penguin?"

Adjusting his cufflinks, Edward scoffed. "I never make appointments. Just inform him of my presence."

Crossing his arms flexed the gorilla's upper torso in a way Edward knew had soft women easily impressed, however since he was not a soft woman, he raised his cane and settled the heavy brass question mark against the beasts' right pectoral.

"Sir, I am going in one way or another, I would just hope that we could do this the civilized way."

The man shifted his weight and Edward noted that he favoured his left knee a little. Previous injury perhaps? Lucky encounter for him.

Gazing stonily at each other, neither one relented, before Edward sighed.

"Very well. Good evening to you, sir." Turning, Edward took three steps, hefting his cane, he took hold of it in both hands almost thoughtfully, before spinning around. Striking the man behind his left knee, dropped the monster instantly, howling in pain.

Calmly, Edward knelt at the man's side. "I'm horribly sorry. Sometimes this damned cane just has a mind of it's own." He chuckled then. "Well, I'll just head inside and get you some help…" He stepped over the man and into the Penguin's newest nightclub.

Inside the club, Edward noted a few of the 'dancers' up on stage practicing and smiled almost arrogantly as they paused their rehearsing to watch him wander by. He tapped his cane to the brim of his hat at them politely and carried on, swaggering on long legs past the bartender who continued to wash a glass as though he hadn't even seen a man in green and purple wander by.

Taking the dark stairs to the office cautiously, Edward pushed open the door as quietly as possible and slipped into the equally dark office.

Nothing could be distinguished in the room for a moment, while his eyes adjusted to the change from some light to very, very little light. In fact the only light that was in the room came from under the door to the bathroom across the floor from where Edward stood.

Moving across the lush carpet, the Riddler eased himself down on top of Oswald's desk and waited patiently in the dark for his old…acquaintance.

After a while, the rotund Penguin waddled out of the bathroom, puffing away happily on his ciggie, the black holder clenched in between his teeth. In the rectangle of light from the bathroom the Penguin's shadow looked long and lean, not at all like the man himself.

"Hello, Oswald," Edward greeted, pushing spryly to his feet.

Monocle falling from it's place, the Penguin made a 'qua' of surprise, before scowling. "Edward," he snarled, casually wiping his fallen monocle on his shirtfront, before replacing it.

"Good friend, look not upon me, but the me that I can be."

Penguin scowled somewhat, his ciggie drooping. "Who said that?"

Edward looked around. "Me. I'm standing right here."

"What do you want, Edward?" Waddling over, the Penguin eased into his chair behind his desk regally, still puffing away.

"Always get right to the point, don't you?" Edward inquired, once more perching on Oswald's desk.

Leaning forward, the bird-like man smiled, it could have been a charming smile if it wasn't so dripping with evil intent. "I do. And I hate time wasting."

"I understand, I was just with a fellow like that the other day." He picked up a letter opener and studied the ivory handle. "What can you tell me about the Joker's return?"

"What do you care?"

"I like to know which area of the city to avoid."

Leaning back in his chair, there was a look of complete understanding that drove across Oswald's features. "I see. Well, you are the only one who can tolerate Crane for more than two minutes, it's only natural you'd worry about him."

Taking the opportunity the Penguin had given him for an excuse, Edward leapt on it. "Sometimes even that's pushing it."

"I'll tell you one thing, between old friends, Edward. There's been some activity at the old toy factory by the docks."

Edward set the letter opener down and pushed up off the desk. "Thank you, Ozzie."

"Hold up, Edward. I need a little favour from you, now."

"Tit for tat, huh?"

The Penguin chuckled. "Don't look so nervous. I just want you to do a little something for me."

"My fear has upgraded to horror, Oswald."

"Now, it's nothing illegal, don't worry. I just want you to deliver something for me."

"Seems I've been doing more favours for old friends than I've ever done in my entire life this week…"

Reaching into his desk drawer, the Penguin pulled out a brightly wrapped gift. "I want you to deliver this to my new godson."

Eyeing the gift with a mild look of horror, Edward sneered. "I'm assuming only Ivy would be mad enough to make you the godfather to her hellspawn?"

Oswald beamed. "She did."

"You are aware that Ivy and I are like fire and gasoline?"

"I am."

Scooping up the gift, Edward nodded. "Well, that being said, I nearly died once this millenia, why not try my luck at a second go? I'm off." Pausing at the door, he turned back. "Oh, your bouncer may need medical attention…I'm afraid he wasn't accommodating."

* * *

><p>"Look, I could really use you by my side."<p>

In his apartment, strewn across his sofa reading one of his many books, Selina Kyle peered over her borrowed reading glasses at him. "I thought you didn't like Ivy…"

"I…just feel that making a pilgrimage to her…_darling son _is…I…" he sighed, the lies tasted chalky in his mouth. "Ozzie wants me to deliver a gift to the boy and I think Pamela would be more accommodating if you were at my side."

Smiling, she set aside both the book and the glasses, to push to her feet. "We're not supposed to be out in public together, Eddie."

"Aside from our trip into the world of normalcy?" He inquired.

"That was different."

He pocketed his hands. "In what way?"

"It was my idea." She replied playfully.

"You're a horrible woman." He pointed out calmly.

Pursing her lips in thought, she moved around him. "Well, I'll agree if you do something for me."

"Another favour…why not? Just call me the Giving Tree!"

Thrusting her hand through his hair, she used her other to pull him in close with his tie. "Let me cut your hair, Giving Tree."

Nose to nose with her, Edward scowled. "Sometimes logic just doesn't apply to you."

"It's getting floppy and you could use a trim." She argued.

"Suddenly everything makes sense," he remarked. "I've entered the twilight zone. This entire week is just a mad dream…or I'm dead. I could be dead."

Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against him. "I just miss your boyish hair, Ed, you're starting to look like a well dressed woman."

In response to her affection, he slid his own arms around her waist and pulled her in tighter. "Fine, you can cut my hair, my queen. But then I'm telling everyone about the freckle." He teased.

"I'd deny it." She replied lightly.

Unwrapping his arms, he stepped away from her and reached into his breast pocket. "Then I may have to show them this Polaroid…"

She gasped. "You pervert! When did you take that?"

Edward laughed as she lunged at the photograph of the freckle he had taken, holding it high over his head out of her grasp. "I may be a pervert, but I'm also a very tall man, my dear."

Despite her overly theatrical frown, she laughed and continued to make an attempt at acquiring the incriminating evidence of their relationship.

"It's good to have dirt on people, isn't it?" He teased. The irony of him extorting her while Gordon extorted him was not at all lost on him.

Hopping onto his back, she hung there like a koala for a moment, before continuing her assault.

Keeping the picture out of her reach easily, Edward sighed. "I was hoping you'd get a little more rough. How disappointed I am."

Her teeth sank into his earlobe and he yelped.

"Kinky enough for you?" She purred into the very ear she had just mangled.

Angling his face towards hers, their noses bumped and he chuckled. "I'll sell the photo back to you at a price."

"I don't blackmail easily," she replied.

"Oh, but this may prove to be worth it." He stated.

Selina laughed again, it wasn't the laugh of a thief or a woman who dressed in black PVC and carried a whip, it was a feminine thing that dug into the core of Edward's baser instincts and buried itself there.

He pressed a kiss to her mouth as she continued to dangle from him, savouring the taste of her as her slightly wet lips brushed against his.

Taking hold of his tie from behind him, she deepened the kiss, still draped half over his shoulder.

Knowing exactly what she had in mind, he dropped the photograph onto the floor and pulled her onto the sofa with him, pinning her under his body almost roughly.

She made a small sound in the back of her throat as their lips parted.

"Mind the ribs, Eddie." She commanded.

"I think if you can dangle from my back like a sloth, then you can certainly handle my attentions." He returned, sliding a gloved hand up her thigh. "Now, shall we open negotiations or not?"

"For a picture of a freckle that could be anyone's? I'm not sure." She replied, wrapping her arms around him loosely.

He blinked down at her. "You're not happy unless you're giving me grief, are you?"

"Am I being hard on you, Eddie?" She teased.

"I may cry," he replied, getting into the act. He was shocked into silence, when she leaned up and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I'm not entirely certain you're not insane, my queen."

Old habits came back to her as she covered her smile with the back of her hand.

Taking hold of her wrist, he pulled her hand away to fully appreciate her joy. "Of course, you'd be in good company with me."

To his amusement Chairman Mao took the opportunity to disrupt their moment by leaping onto the sofa at Selina's head.

The two of them looked up at the cat.

"He follows you around, you know?" She asked.

"I'm aware. Chairman Mao is my favourite and he knows it." For a moment, he was unsure whether he said that out loud.

"Chairman Mao?"

Edward blinked, before clearing his throat. "Well…it was that or Paul."

"Paul?"

"…may be the orange tabby in the corner."

Quirking a brow, Selina screwed her mouth up adorably. "Did you name all the strays, Ed?"

"Not all of them." He growled adjusting his cufflinks and getting off of her.

She smirked at him wickedly. "Eddie…"

"I wouldn't condescend to name these fleabags." He huffed.


	6. Wednesday

**Robot521, meerkat's are awesome. That is all. **

**Violeta27, you know a place that would be great for a vacation? Sweden. Seriously. That place.**

**Everyone else, this is the second to last chapter. So...you know...enjoy or whatever...**

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, 2004<strong>

**Eddie**

If there was one villain he hated most in Gotham it would be the Princess of Plants herself. Poison Ivy.

For some reason, unknown to Eddie, she and he never saw eye to eye.

He always chalked it up to his superior intellect. Jealousy.

It amassed to the reason he was invading her workspace, smugly chomping on a bag of baby carrots while his goons chained the woman up, Query and Echo spraying the plants with chemicals to keep her pet vines at bay.

Ivy, looking absolutely sinfully beautiful despite her distress, looked at him coldly. "You have any reason for intruding, Eddie?"

"Usually I do like to have a reason for visiting an old friend, but between us, Pammie," he placed a well polished oxford on the chair between her legs and leaned in, close enough to make his point, but far enough away to avoid her pheromones. Snapping a carrot in half, he chewed long, allowing her to get annoyed by his dramatic pause, before swallowing. "Between us," he repeated finally. "I just wanted the space."

Her green eyes were the sort that drew a man in, they were like the bright petals of a flower attracting the bees, but Eddie had dealt with Ivy long enough to know not to stare into her eyes too long. He broke their gaze by eyeing his girls hard at work.

"The plants, are the first to go," he explained to Ivy sweeping out his arms. "Because I have no care for plants. Then…well," he turned again and beamed at her. "Then you go, because we all know I have no use for you." Tucking a baby carrot in between her lips, Eddie stepped back as she spat it out at him. "I love your fire, Pammie. But you've outlived your use in this world. What's living, yet dead, needs to breathe to grow to it's full potential, yet has no lungs?"

"You're not a killer, Eddie." She objected calmly, ignoring his riddle.

"Not as a rule, but I am a criminal and I do find you offensive. Rules don't always apply in this line of work, do they?" He inquired. "Mors plantis, my dear. In autumno, et aruit herba arcu est caput."

"There are many things you and I agree on, Eddie." A firm, feminine voice broke in from the night outside the open greenhouse door. Catwoman wandered in, her hips swaying. "And Ivy is one of them, but if you kill her I'm afraid you might look elsewhere for another enemy and it might be me."

Eddie eyed her quietly as the woman in black vinyl approached his position.

"Good evening, Selina." Pam greeted coolly.

"Pam, I came to borrow your good suitcase."

"Going on a trip?" The red head asked.

"Of sorts."

"It's in the house."

"Thanks."

Trailing a hand over Eddie's chest on her way by, Selina added, "by the way, Pam. Eddie's weakness is his ego, try working that for a bit."

As Eddie and his goons watched Selina leave, one of his denser minions spoke up. "Should we - should we kill the cat, boss?"

Tugging and pulling his tie into place, Eddie scowled. "No, she's inconsequential." Turning back to Ivy, he found the red head loose and standing proudly before him.

"Hiya, Eddie." She purred, vines coming out of nowhere to ensconce him and his cronies.

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, Now<strong>

She had cut his hair too short, he was sure of it. It felt short.

They had arranged for her to arrive before him and for Edward to just 'drop in' at the same time. However, when he arrived at Ivy's greenhouse behind Fries' home, he found the gathering larger than just the four of them. There surrounding the proud mother was Fries, Selina, Harley and Crane, all of them listening to Ivy as she told some ridiculous story about the boy.

Edward moved in behind the crowd and waited.

"So I took it out of his mouth just in time." Ivy purred.

While the others laughed at the story, Edward and Crane both scowled as though they were in pain.

On the other side of Edward, Harley gushed, then squealed. "Ain't he just the cutest thing, Mistah E?"

It seemed a mere reflex when Edward replied with a sharp, "he looks like a shaved chimp."

Four pairs of eyes zeroed in on him with venom in their pupils, while at his side Crane puffed his chest out and smirked ever so, his tousled, crest-like hair giving him a bird-like appeal.

Adjusting his tie, Edward forced a smile. "Hello, Pam. I brought you something."

She sneered at the gift he held out.

"It's from Oswald." He added.

Fries took it for the mother.

"I better give you a big tip, you look like you could use the money." Ivy pointed out.

"Pammie, I wish your son all the well being of the Lindbergh baby." He growled.

Selina sidled up beside him and jabbed his thigh with her finger. "Not in her house, Ed." She whispered.

With a wider, plastic grin, Edward held out his hands. "May I hold your little pot roast?"

Looking down her nose at him, Ivy sneered. "No."

"Look, I'm trying to be amiable, Pam." He pointed out.

Giving him a chilling look, the mother hugged her baby in closer to her body. "Run along, messenger boy, you're upsetting my son. I think it's your voice, it's grating to the ears."

Feeling his diplomatic envoy shot down out of the sky, Edward's smile died. "Could be the poor little bastard just found out that he's going to spend most of his life seeing his mother through the plexiglass at Arkham."

"Things just got a lot more interesting." Crane muttered.

Ignoring the constant jabbing at his thigh, Edward went on. "In fact, I'm fairly certain there'll be a separate cell for junior himself. After all, I heard evil begets evil."

Clearing his throat politely, Fries stepped in. "Edward, that's my son as well."

Holding up his hand in Fries face without breaking eye contact with Ivy, Edward snarled. "Keep it down, sperm donor. This doesn't involve you."

"I feel a little turned on." Harley stated.

"It's the tension in the air, my dear." Crane replied. "Mind the vines."

As a thick vine wound it's way around Edward's ankle, Selina stepped in. "Okay, everyone calm down, you're all upsetting the baby." Her sharp warning glare was directed at him.

He swallowed his pride and decided to be the bigger man and back down. "Well, good evening then." He tapped the vine to be released and found it only tightened around his leg. Touching a hand to his hat, he pushed it back and glowered at Ivy. "If you would?"

She tilted her head and another vine shot out of the foliage to grab hold of his left wrist.

He scowled. "Really, Pam."

"I'm not commanding them." She purred.

All eyes turned on the boy in her arms, who watched Edward with sharp eyes, a gooey hand shoved in his little mouth. He had a normal flesh tone, so Edward assumed the boy had none of his mother's abilities. Suddenly he was a little nervous.

"He must die, Mr. Thorne," he muttered.

Harley threw her hands in the air. "The Omen, 1976! I love this game!"

Dangling from the vines that were now wrapping all around him, Edward sighed. "I'm not really comfortable up here."

"Well, now I'm stumped." Harley growled.

Crane quirked a brow. "It puts the lotion-"

"Knock it off you two." Selina purred, moving towards Ivy to stroke her son's head. With his attention preoccupied by the woman before him, the baby's concentration broke and the vines released their prey.

Grunting as he hit the ground hard, he jumped up in the same breath and tried to return some dignity to his person by swiping away the dust.

"I'd run." Fries pointed out.

"Smarter words have never been spoken." He replied, turning on his heel sharply, he did just that, waving over his shoulder at the others.

* * *

><p>"You can't insult someone's baby to their face, Ed." She pointed out as they walked from the Buick into his apartment building.<p>

With his hands in his pockets and his head bent, he frowned. "Who cares, the woman's a pestilence on society and so is her offspring."

"You really have no social skills, do you?"

"You know I don't, dear." He muttered.

She was silent for a moment as they took the stairs, before speaking again at their floor. "Why do you hate Ivy so much, anyways? Even before Robinson Park, you two had a weird rivalry." Touching a hand to her chin, she went on. "I always thought it was a sexual thing…"

"A sexual thing?" He inquired, hand on his key in the lock of his door, clear blue-green eyes on her. He studied her thoroughly, before coming to the decision that she was utterly clueless, something Selina Kyle had never been. "You don't know…do you?"

"What? Did you two…actually have sex?"

Edward chuckled. "Selina," he began smugly, "I'm afraid my sexual organs are a little too external for her liking."

She frowned in mild confusion.

"Ivy's a lesbian."

"What?" She demanded. Violet eyes narrowed critically at him. "Are you lying?"

"I never lie about lesbians…well, I've never had the chance, but…how could you not see it, Lina? Her obsession with Harley, her indifference towards men and why would she choose Victor Fries? Any man could have done the job. Question: why go through the trouble of getting his sperm the right temperature just to have a child by him? Answer: because he loves his wife and wouldn't read too much into it."

Touching the back of her hand to her jaw, she fell silent.

"And for your information, I don't get along with her because she's a cold, bitch-goddess, not because of her sexual orientation or any sexual history between us." He opened his apartment door with a sharp push and motioned her in first. "Although the incident at Robinson Park certainly didn't do our relationship any good…"

She went quietly.

"I should have figured your gaydar was out of whack," he teased. "After all, you thought I was gay and I proved otherwise…"

"I'm still not entirely convinced you aren't." She replied.

Hanging up his hat and keys, he eyed her in the dim light of the apartment. "I'd say that thing we did last night would disprove any theories you had."

"Allowing me to cut your hair hardly makes you straight." She said, resting her hand on his chest.

"The other thing, dear." He replied, idly chasing a cat off his workbench.

"Oh, you mean when you stayed up 'til one doing crosswords in bed, before conking out with your reading glasses perched on the end of your nose?"

"I would have been reading Hobbes, had you not stolen the book from me and promptly fell asleep on top of it." He replied. "But what I meant was the thing we did on the bathroom counter. As I recall you enjoyed every minute of that trist."

"Yes," she agreed, "all three of them."

Glowering at her, he sniffed. "I liked you better when you weren't this comfortable around me."

She laughed softly.

* * *

><p>In bed that night, he looked over at her from his book of crosswords, tapping his pen against his chin.<p>

Beside him she wore his reading glasses, reading some kind of murder-mystery, three cats curled around her.

"I've been thinking," he began carefully.

She looked over and up at him. "Oh?"

"Tonight's your sixth night in a row sleeping here."

"Is it?" She turned back to the book.

"I love a good riddle. But something's not gelling."

She flipped a page. "Hn?"

"Who are you hiding from?" He inquired, tipping her book down.

Selina pinned him with a stern look. "I'm not hiding from anyone, Ed. Is it so hard to believe that I just want to spend my nights here?"

He quirked a doubtful brow at her.

Sighing, she thrust her hand through her raven hair. "I've been thinking a lot about Doctor Aesop...how he died." Her mouth moved, but nothing came out, until she finally forced it into action. "I don't want to be eighty and still dressing like a dominatrix, stealing gems from museums and living life in the shadows."

"I have a good theory about where this is going, my dear, but for the sake of clarification, please go on." He twisted in the bed to give her his undivided attention.

"You're not going to like where this conversation leads, Ed."

"There are very few things I do like, Selina. But I accept them, now you have to go on."

"What's keeping you sane, Ed?"

He smirked. "You're changing the subject."

Her eyes landed on him sharply. "I'm not. Answer the question."

"Well, there's therapy on Fridays and two strong doses of Serolithadril a day."

"Do you think you'd ever want to go back to being the Riddler?"

Edward beamed crookedly and waved his hand out over the clan of cats lying at the foot of the bed. "And leave all this? It may not be a vast empire, my dear, but it is mine."

"I'm serious, Eddie."

His smile faded. "The best thing about this medication, is the fact that it allows me to think rationally. And _rationally_ speaking, I see no merit in returning to a life of crime. Does this make me boring? Perhaps. Does it discredit my reputation in Gotham's underworld? Certainly. Has it made me happier? So far, so good."

"Do you ever wonder about the future?"

"Hardly."

"But you do think about it?"

"From time to time."

"It's not a game anymore." She stated suddenly.

He was slow to respond, shocked by the statement. "Which is why you're making yourself comfortable in my apartment?"

When she didn't respond right away, he inhaled deeply and went on.

"You know, I have thought recently, that if I weren't in my right frame of mind, I wouldn't have even kept you around past last Christmas."

"Wouldn't have kept me around?"

"Thankfully for strong medications, I was able to _enjoy_ unwraveling a part of your mystique."

"So you'd be able to just throw me out if you weren't sane?"

Sensing her tone was quite irritated, he quirked a brow. "I'm merely saying, Selina, that if I wasn't in my right frame of mind then, I would have lost some intrigue in pursuing you and all interest would have faded."

"So you're saying that on the meds or off, you could just...care less about whether I'm in your life or not?"

"Selina, you're," he struggled for a way to put it, "you're acting like this is some kind of serious relation-"

At her venomous look, his words suffered a quick aneurysm and died there and then in mid air.

"Oh...we're in a serious relationship." He muttered.

Her eyes widened and she flailed her hands as if to say 'well, yeah'. "What did you expect would happen after you stalked me for a year, Eddie?" She demanded.

"Of course I expected a natural progression of - wait, stalked you?"

"Yeah, you heard me."

"Stalking would imply unwanted attention, Selina." He pointed out.

She cocked her head.

"I doubt that if you found my attention unwanted, you'd be here right now."

When she continued to say nothing, he reached out, mindful of how vicious an angry cat could be, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Let's ignore hypotheticals and look at the facts." He said. "Fact: if you hadn't dropped into that alley on the Christmas before last, I would have possibly gone through with my plans to go off the meds and go back to being the Riddler. Fact: I find in you, a rival and a companion. Fact: though nothing in my life - so far - has gone my way, the happiest moment of my life was on Mother's Day of last year."

"Mother's Day?"

"Or as I call it, V Day. The day you _voluntarily_ spent some time alone with me. Which happened to be a small _victory_ on my part. And a _vicarious_ romp in your childhood with _various_ activities that ended with a _very_ _voracious_ kiss from a _very_ _voluptuous_ _vixen_."

Seeing the smile just wavering on the edge of her mouth, he decided to push one last time for a result.

"Verily."

She gave an airy little laugh.

As they settled back into a comfortable silence, she whispered. "I'm not going to be able to sleep now."

He continued scratching answers in his crossword book.

Running a hand through her hair, she got out of bed. "I'm going to go out for a while tonight. See what I can see."

Smirking, he looked over his book at her. "Mind the nighttime creeps and killers, dear."

Changing into her costume, she stretched a little.

"Or perhaps it's they who should be wary." He added.

Wandering over, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. "I'll be back sometime between now and then."

"Vague as always, my dear."

"Knock it off with the vee's, Ed."


	7. Thursday

**Well, this is it once more. The very last.**

**Robot521, I agree completely. Something about Ivy rubs me the wrong way. Actually, with the exception of Catwoman and Batgirl, most of the female characters in Batman aren't that great. I don't know why I liked Batgirl...but I miss her. Also, I feel like the Silence of the Lambs would be the only movie Crane would have enjoyed. Thanks for all your reviews, it means a lot that you've taken the time to both read and review these stories.**

**Violeta27, you know I love you. Don't make me say it in front of the people of Sweden.**

**Esmeralda Smith, I was thinking as I wrote that scene how proud V would be of me. It was completely unintentional, but amused the hell out of me as an end result. Plus, your comment was hella funny.**

**Everyone else, what can I say. Some things in life are bad, they can really make you mad. Other things just make you swear and curse. When you're chewing on life's gristle, don't grumble, give a whistle. And this'll help things turn out for the best...**

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, 2003<strong>

**** Selina****

Opera with Gary the high financier was the same old boring affair opera usually was.

Sitting in a box overlooking the stage, she watched as a man far too old and too fat to be the supposedly handsome, young Don Giovanni belted out in Italian all his arrogance as though getting it out of his system.

Idly shredding the program, she stifled back a yawn.

They had just returned from the act break, where Gary was caught up chatting with a rich businessman and his wife, before being stolen away by another rich business man and his equally pretentious wife.

Selina settled herself at the bar, sipping brandy and biding her time.

Now, a little flushed from too much brandy, she sat in the box watching as Don Giovanni scorned Elvira. She only understood a bit of Italian, which meant she was going on gestures, as the man waved Elvira off and she left looking crushed.

A scream came from offstage, catching Selina's attention.

Don Giovanni and his chicken shit servant Leporello both become a flurry of singing and activity as the pounding of the drums simulated the pounding of something greater approaching.

Suddenly the wall at the back of the set broke open, fake, Styrofoam bricks scattering across the stage. Instead of the towering statue of the Commendatore, the slightly towering Riddler emerged.

"Don Giovanni!" He sang as whispers rippled through the opera goers.

By now an entire clan of Riddler goons were sweeping through the audience, as Query and Echo marched on stage from either side with their guns in hand.

Selina scoffed, leave it to Ed to make one hell of an entrance, livening up a dreadfully boring night.

Beaming, the Riddler stepped down from the wall, twirling his baton, as he approached centre stage, he held the handle of his cane to his mouth and spoke. It must have been connected to the speakers as his voice echoed off the walls of the opera house.

"Ladies and gentleman-like men! Please keep calm during this time, we're not here to blow anything up, I merely wanted to leave a present for an old friend of mine." As he said this a couple of goons rolled out a large dodecahedron shaped device. "A puzzle of sorts, sure to delight and amuse for generations to come."

Beside her, Gary leaned forward, just as Batman crashed through the ventilation at the very top of the opera house dome and glided down towards the stage, swooping this way and that to avoid the bullets the Riddler's goons sent his way.

"Here's a riddle for you, Batman! How do you stop a flying rodent?" The Riddler shouted.

"Cut off his wings, boss!" Echo answered from stage left.

"Don't mind if I do!" He held up his hand, pointing a remote device at the dodecahedron. Panels slid back to reveal a bevy of sharp shuriken.

Sensing events about to unfold, Selina ducked behind the heavy stone balustrade of the box seat, pulling Gary down with her as pieces of metal soared every which way.

People shrieked and ducked as the shuriken sailed through the opera house.

Cautiously, she poked her head up to catch the Riddler rising to his feet as well, a mad grin on his face as Batman (tattered but not injured) landed on the stage near Echo.

The Riddler giggled. "Oops, there's my cue!"

The hellfire flared up from the floor of the stage on either side of the man clad in green, as Batman neared, causing the man to shield himself from the real flames. Arrogantly the Riddler saluted him as he sunk into the stage, descending into the hell intended for Don Giovanni. The trapdoor slammed shut as Batman set foot on the spot where the Riddler had previously stood.

Now the dark knight was left with two gun wielding henchwomen.

Noticing the goon behind her had taken a shuriken to the leg and was too busy screaming bloody murder to notice her, she slipped off, behind the curtain and down the hall for the stairs. She'd be damned if she was anywhere near the opera house when the GCPD showed up.

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, Now<strong>

"Helloooo, Eddie-boy!"

Edward cracked his eyes to the early morning world of his bedroom and turned his head.

There, nose to nose with him was a grotesque pale face, the mouth carved upwards, splattered messily with red.

"Gah!" He flipped off the bed gracelessly, landing on the floor in a pile of limbs. It took him a moment to collect him, before he popped his head above the line of the mattress like a meerkat eyeing the horizon for danger.

There, head propped up on one hand, lay the Joker in all his purple and green splendour.

"Jesus Christ, Jack." He said, pulling himself up to stand beside the bed. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this heart attack?"

"Just re-connecting with some old friends." The Joker sing-songed in his warped, croak. "You're looking thin, Eddie-boy. I must know your diet secrets." He broke off in his sick cackle.

"It's called eating what you can on the budget of a hobo. I highly recommend it if you hate food." He replied. "Can I offer you some tea or coffee?" The best way to handle the Joker was to treat him amiably.

Leaping to his feet with surprising energy (given that the man was at least five years older than Edward), Jack cackled again, moving in to wag a finger at Edward. "Now, don't be quite the host, Edward! I'll get it, come, I've started breakfast already!"

Allowing his hand to be captured, the Riddler was dragged out into the hall and pushed roughly into a chair at the table.

The Joker, his insane eyes wild, watched as the mother cat moved from the window into his apartment. "My my, who left this window open? Vermin are getting in. Let me handle them for you."

Taking hold of the calico mother cat, Jack gripped her head firmly in his hand.

"Jack," Edward stated firmly. "Leave her be."

Eyes on the Riddler, cat struggling in his arms, the Joker hesitated, before cackling. "Your choice, Ed!"

Thankfully, he dropped the cat and she scurried off.

Humming to himself, Jack went about tinkering in the kitchen, the entire time banging and clanging merrily.

"How do you take your eggs, my boy? Over easy," he grinned sadistically at him. "Benedict?"

Edward evened his expression. "Scrambled, if you must."

"Oh, I insist!" Turning back to his task, the Joker threw out a calm. "I would have taken you for a _fried _egg, type."

It was this, coupled with the fact that Edward had known the Joker since the infancy of the Riddler, that caused him to look about for the trap. Jack was never really subtle.

There it was, a small bundle of innocuous looking wires running down the leg of the chair he sat in, heading for the electrical outlet.

"Tea?' Jack growled, towering over him.

Setting his hand carefully on the tabletop, Edward nodded. "Please."

"One lump or two?" Somehow the Joker could make anything sound like a death threat.

"Why not go for broke and say three?" Edward replied.

"It's not good for you, you know." Jack teased. "That much sugar."

"There's a lot worse that could be done to my body."

"Oh, I know!" Jack exclaimed. "Cholesterol is a killer!" He cackled again.

Taking surreptitious, studying glances at the wires, Edward prepared to either make a move to free himself from his throne of death or die. He wasn't prepared to die, but he wasn't prepared to wait out the Joker's torture either. The man had already put him under slave labour once before, never again would Edward be forced to serve the mad man.

Thumping down the mug of tea, Jack grinned down at him. "Drink up, Eddie-boy."

Eyeing the amber liquid, Edward sighed. "It's nice of you to visit, Jack."

"Oh, the pleasure's all mine, I'm sure!" Slumping into the chair across the table from Edward, the Joker fell silent. "Drink your tea, Eddie." Behind him the eggs began to burn on the stove, smoke pluming up from the skillet.

Licking his bottom lip, the Riddler sighed. "I'm not thirsty."

Jack was silent, still studying Edward, his pale brown eyes boring a hole into his soul. Carefully, he leaned his chair back on two legs and neatly placed his feet on the table, crossing one long, spindly leg over the other.

The smoke from the eggs became a darker shade of grey as the stink of burnt eggs wafted across the kitchen into the dining area. Still, Jack paid them no heed, eyes on Edward, grin plastered on his face, making the severity of the rest of his face morbid.

"What happens, Jack, when I don't drink the tea?" Edward asked. "Will this chair explode or fry me?"

"You're the genius, Edward. You tell me."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he wondered if anyone ever hugged Jack. The man was a full blown beast. The smoke from the eggs was now thick in the air, plumes of it billowing out of the skillet, setting off the fire alarm. Still, Jack made no move towards the stove.

It didn't take any more than that for Edward to put it all together. The chair - knowing the Joker - was rigged with electricity, there was no doubt. But the eggs burning on the stove, the oven mitts left beside the pan on the edge of the counter just close enough, the dish towels and all the mess scattered around his formerly neat kitchen. This was a death trap and Edward had been placed inside it. Guess someone must have found out about his meeting with Gordon and went to the Joker…

"Feeling threatened by me, Jack?" Edward asked. "Or are you just sad you lost out to me for Snappiest Dressed Villain?"

Over the Joker's shoulder, the oven mitts finally caught on fire, while he merely chuckled madly. "I'm insulted, Eddie-boy, I really am." He pushed to his feet. "Here I make you a lovely breakfast and you can't even drink your tea…"

And just like that, Jack turned and left.

Edward leaned as far as he dared to lean to see what lay just under the seat of the chair. Obviously Jack didn't want him dead, otherwise he would have killed him in his sleep, but still, that didn't mean he would make the escape easy. He was torturing Edward like a beast tortures its prey before dealing a swift blow.

If he were in his suit, he could use the small nail kit he kept in his breast pocket to disconnect the wires, but…well he wasn't in his suit.

In the kitchen the oven mitts caught fire and it spread a little faster over the array of flammable objects the Joker had laid out.

* * *

><p><strong>**Selina**<strong>

She was halfway over Gotham, heading back to Ed's from a night of prowling, when she spied the smoke billowing in the East.

Curious she had followed it, heading across the rooftops. Hoping whatever was going down would distract her from her thoughts. Things were progressing too fast with Ed and she wasn't really expecting it. Not that it was awful, but somehow fast progression always seemed like something that could never end well.

It wasn't until she was five or six blocks from the fire, that she began to recognize the rooftops. She had travelled this route before.

Landing hard on the rooftop of the building overlooking the fire, she skidded to a halt at the edge, claws digging into the gravel as she crouched to watch Eddie's apartment burn.

There were flames licking out from the windows on all floors, smoke pluming high into the early morning sky.

She scanned the survivors who were being tended to on the curb below, looking for the familiar rosewood colour of his hair.

Something inside the apartment exploded and showered the survivors with more smoke and debris.

Below her the fire fighters swarmed, forcing those observing back from the building for their own safety.

_He's dead._

_He's not. He can't be._

"Best seat in the house, eh, Selina?"

She recognized the voice, but refused to turn from watching the apartment burn. If she did he would no doubt see her tears.

"Did you do this?" She asked.

His breath fell on the back of her neck as he leaned down to whisper. "I really wish they handed out medals for chaos. I'm an unappreciated artist."

"Why?"

"I once heard someone refer to Eddie-boy as Joker Lite." He said jovially. "I don't like having a version of myself with less calories and all the great taste." He ended darkly, before cackling.

_He's dead._

**To be continued...?**


End file.
